A Match Made in Heaven
by razztaztic
Summary: Booth and Brennan were doing just fine - until their mothers got involved.
1. A Meeting of the Minds

Milly watched the woman walk slowly up the steps to the cafe and look around with uncertain curiosity. Sipping her tea, she allowed the newspaper she'd been reading to fall to the table as she tracked the other woman's meandering path through the widely scattered round tables until finally, she pulled out an empty chair a few feet away. The woman sat there for a few moments, her hands lying limply in her lap, glancing around carefully in a way designed to avoid attracting attention. Her gaze lingered occasionally on the cups and plates being used by the other patrons before she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and began to rise.

"No need to get up," Milly spoke softly, knowing her voice would carry directly to the other woman. "They know you're here. Just wait a few minutes and someone will be out with just what you don't know you want." Milly smiled into the startled eyes, folded her newspaper and carried it and her cup to the other woman's table. Without asking permission, she sat down.

"You're new, huh?" At the small nod, Milly smiled again. "Just finished orientation?" Another nod. Milly held out her hand. "Milly. Well," she added, rolling her eyes, "Millicent but honestly, who names a kid Millicent?" A quick, awkward second passed while Milly's hand hung in the air between them before the other woman reached out with tentative fingers.

"Christine . . . Ruth," she corrected herself quickly.

Milly's eyes twinkled. "It's nice to meet you, Christine Ruth," she teased gently.

"Just Ruth," Ruth laughed, relaxing slightly. "Just Ruth." A woman clad in a long, pale blue gown approached and set a steaming cup of coffee and bowl of vegetable soup in front of her. At Ruth's stammered thanks, she smiled gently, nodded, and drifted away. Ruth picked up the spoon and then hesitated, glancing at Milly.

"Go ahead," she waved. "I've already had lunch." She watched as Ruth tasted the soup before tucking in with a hum of pleasure. "So where are you from, Ruth?"

"Chicago," she said, blowing on her coffee before sipping.

"Oh, you're American!" Milly exclaimed. "That's great! You don't know unless you ask," she continued, seeing Ruth's confused look. "When someone speaks, we hear them in the language we know best," she explained. "You could have been speaking Chinese and I would have heard English. It's part of the . . . magic . . . of this place, I guess you could say."

Ruth swallowed a spoonful of soup and carefully avoided Milly's eyes. "Have you been here long?"

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I think so," she answered. "I'm not really sure. It's not the same here. Time, I mean. They told you that in orientation, right?"

Ruth nodded, staring down at the soup she stirred needlessly.

"The best way to keep up with the passage of time is to ask the new people. Like you." Milly sipped her tea, staring at Ruth over the rim of her cup. "What year was it when you died?" she asked casually. The spoon clattered loudly against the bowl as Ruth gasped and jerked back in her seat. Milly looked at her sympathetically. "It's okay," she said quietly. "It's not a secret, you know. Look around you." With a jerk of her head, Milly indicated the other people in the cafe. "We all got here the same way."

Ruth took a deep breath. "I know," she said, her fingers twisting together on top of the table. "It's just that it's all so . . . so . . ."

"Weird. Odd. Strange. Unbelievable." Milly filled in the blanks sympathetically. "Yes, it is," she shrugged. "You get used to it, though, eventually - and trust me, eventually is something there's plenty of here," she added with a chuckle.

Ruth picked up the spoon again and swirled it through the thick soup. "I guess so. That's what they told us, anyway." She laughed without humor. "I'm not even sure where I am exactly."

"Didn't they go over that in orientation?" Milly asked.

"Yes, they did," Ruth nodded. "But it didn't make sense to me." She looked around the community surrounding the café, at the cobblestone streets and low, white stone buildings set against a brilliant blue sky and sighed. "I still don't know where I am."

"You're here," Milly said gently. "And here is wherever you want it to be. It isn't any more complicated than that."

"I suppose so." Ruth blew out her breath in a puff of air and let the spoon rest gently against the side of the bowl. "1993," she said. At Milly's blank look she expanded, "That's what year it is, 1993."

"Really?" Milly blinked in shock. "1993?" Ruth nodded. "Wow," she breathed. "Huh." She shook her head in bemusement. "That means I've been gone for almost 20 years," she said softly. Her eyes unfocused as she stared off into the distance over Ruth's shoulder. "Twenty years. I never would have thought . . . My boys are all grown up now . . ." She blinked furiously as her eyes began to sparkle with unshed tears. She came back to herself with a jerk and smiled ruefully. "It sneaks up on you sometimes, missing the life you had. Ah, well . . ." She shook her head and shrugged off the aura of sadness that had enveloped her. "Did you leave any family?"

Ruth's eyes welled. "My husband, Max." Her indrawn breath shook. "And . . . my children . . . my son and my . . . my daughter." Her lips trembled. "I haven't seen them in . . .They don't even know . . ." She dropped her head and covered her eyes with one hand.

Milly covered the other hand with one of hers. "They don't know you're gone? Why not?" She had to lean forward to catch Ruth's whispered response. "You left them? Why?" Ruth looked up, eyes overflowing, and reached out suddenly, grabbing Milly's hand with both of hers like a drowning swimmer searching for a lifeline. The sympathy in the other woman's face had her pouring out her story, her voice halting and thick with pain as she struggled with the guilt she felt.

Milly listened quietly, letting her speak, squeezing the fingers that held on to hers so tightly, until finally the avalanche of words came to a close. "I promised myself I'd go back someday," Ruth whispered, her inner torment visible, "but now it's too late." A fresh sob caught in her throat. "I'll never see them again . . . they'll never know . . . she'll never . . ."

"Oh, honey," Milly said, her heart breaking for her new friend. "What a weight you've carried."

Ruthie wiped her eyes with the napkin on her lap. "I'd give anything if I could just see them again. Just once more." Her shoulders hunched as her voice faded away, her hands twisting the napkin into a tight spiral in her lap.

Milly hesitated for a moment, considering her next words carefully. "There is a way . . . if you're sure . . ." she began.

Ruth's head jerked up. "I can go back?"

"No." Milly shook her head definitively. "No, you can't go back. But if you really want to see them, there's a way." She stared at Ruth uncertainly. "There's no guarantee you'll like what you'll see. You don't know what kind of life they have now, what they're doing. You have to be prepared for anything, good or bad." She bit her lip. "Sometimes, it's better not to know."

Ruth shook her head violently. "Please," she pleaded. "Please just tell me how. Please don't take this away from me, not now that you've told me it's possible. Please."

Milly hesitated a moment longer then nodded. "Okay. All right. I'll take you," she said, standing up. "You can leave that," she added when Ruth began gathering her cup and bowl. "It will be taken care of." With a gesture indicating Ruth should follow her, she led the other woman away from the cafe and through the streets of the small community.

"What you have to remember," she explained as they walked, "is that time passes differently here. When you see them, they'll be older than you think they should be." She glanced at Ruth, who nodded her understanding. They stopped next to a large circular fountain surrounded by a low white wall. In the middle three slender columns of silver twisted together, forming a tall braided spire that shot jets of sparkling water high into the air before the drops fell in dancing patterns into the calm peace of the surrounding pool. Milly sat down carefully on the wall and beckoned to Ruth.

"This is the Reflecting Pool," she said, looking out at the silver spire. "It can show you the ones you're connected to, in your heart." She looked at Ruth. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure," Ruth said, her head nodding.

"All right." Milly took a deep breath. "What you see is what's happening to them, right now. But no matter what you see, you can't change it. You can't change the present or the past. You can see them but they can't see you or hear you." She hesitated again. "You're certain you want to do this?"

Ruth paused for a moment, glancing around. "I'm surprised we're alone here," she said, her voice tentative. "I would think everyone would want to see the people they left behind."

Milly looked away. "We all find our way here, eventually," she murmured. "At first. But . . . it hurts." She stared into the water. "They move on without us and while we think that's what we want, it can be painful to see. Husbands with new wives, wives with new husbands. The babies we left behind are teenagers. Everyone gets older." She shrugged. "What we really want to see are our memories and the Reflecting Pool doesn't show us memories. It shows us life, as it is." She looked back at Ruth, her eyes sad. "You'll see."

Ruth's chin firmed. "Maybe. But right now I want to see my children," she said, her voice determined.

Milly nodded. "All right. Look into the water and when you see your reflection, say the name of the person you want to see."

Ruth took a deep breath and stared into the clear waters of the fountain until the gentle waves stilled and her own face came into focus. "Russ Brennan," she said softly, watching the faint image of her lips form the words as she spoke. Her hand went to her throat when the water shimmered for a few seconds and then solidified into a glossy silvered surface. Her son was there, holding a plastic tray as he shuffled through a line with other men staring without expression at the colorless food being served.

"Oh, no," Ruth breathed, taking note of the faded blue shirt and jeans worn by everyone. "He's in jail." She looked at Milly. "He's in jail! Why? What happened?"

Milly shrugged. "The Reflecting Pool shows you what's happening, not why."

"Oh, Russ." One hand reached toward the mirrored surface.

"No!" Milly grabbed her wrist. "Don't touch the water. Not while the pictures are there."

Ruth pulled her hand back and watched as the image wavered, mingling with the shimmer of the water until it disappeared completely. She hesitated, her teeth tugging on her bottom lip, before speaking again. "Tempe . . ." her voice broke. She cleared her throat and began again. "Temperance Brennan."

She held her breath as the water began to change, gasping loudly when her daughter came into focus. "Oh, my baby," she breathed out. "Look at her," she said to Milly, her eyes misty, "isn't she beautiful?"

Milly nodded, smiling. "Yes, she is."

Ruth leaned closer to the surface, drinking in the sight of her daughter standing at the front of a classroom, lecturing. "She's a teacher, I think," she exclaimed, grabbing Milly's arm in her excitement. "Maybe even a college professor. She's okay," she whispered, nodding to herself. "She's okay," she repeated, letting the tears fall unchecked. "She's okay."

She grabbed Milly in a tight hug and squeezed even harder. "Thank you, Milly. Thank you so much."

Patting the other woman's back, Milly smiled, glancing over Ruth's shoulder down into the fountain . . . and froze. Abruptly she pushed Ruth away and leaned in closer.

"What is it?" Ruth asked, focused on her daughter in alarm. Temperance had stopped lecturing, speaking instead to a man in a dark suit who walked down the aisle toward her.

Milly looked up at Ruth, her mouth hanging open. "That's my oldest son," she said, pointing with a trembling finger to the man smiling crookedly at Temperance. "That's Seeley."

The two women gazed in shock at the man and woman smiling with interest at each other.

"That's your son," Ruth repeated slowly, "with my daughter?"

"That's your daughter," Milly corrected, "with my son."

The mothers stared at their children until the image blended into the clear water of the fountain.

Then they turned to each other . . . and smiled.

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><p><em>AN: I've got to say, I'm really excited about this story. It's going to be fun!<em>


	2. The Plot Thickens

_Because of the nature of this story, it's possible that I might refer to another story of mine, _On the Run, _which is the story (meaning 'my story') of Ma_x_ and Ruth Keenan. That's the canon I keep in my head when it comes to them and it might leak into here occasionally. You don't have to read that one to understand this one but if you see something about Max and Ruth that has you scratching your head, that's probably where I got it._

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><p>Milly's smile widened. "Oh, that's sweet," she sighed. A moment's reflection passed before she patted her knees and stood. "So, what would you like to do now? I can show you around, if you'd like to see what orientation doesn't cover, or if you like bowling or swimming, we could do one of those."<p>

Ruth remained seated, her expression confused. "But what about them?" she asked, waving a hand over the water. "What are we going to do about Tempe and your son? Or Russ? He's in jail!"

"We aren't going to do anything," Milly shrugged. "There's nothing we can do. "

"There has to be." Resolute, Ruth turned back to the fountain. "Temperance Brennan," she said firmly.

"It won't work again," Milly advised. "Not this soon."

"How long do I have to wait?" Ruth's brow furrowed as she looked up at the other woman.

"I have no idea, there aren't any set patterns," she answered. "But it definitely won't let you see the same person repeatedly." Determined, she attempted to change the subject. "What about lectures, do you like those? We could see who's on the schedule."

"If it won't show me Tempe then you can ask for your son," Ruth suggested desperately. "Maybe they're still together and I'll see . . ."

"No."

"Why?" She stared at Milly in frustration. "Why not? You can't just show me this little snippet and then expect me to walk away and –"

"Let her live her own life?" Milly interrupted. "Yes, I can. Like it or not, that's the only thing you can do."

"I don't accept that." Ruth stood up, her chin lifted stubbornly. "I refuse to accept that. There has to be a way I can help my children and I'll find it."

"Oh, really?" Milly's brows lifted scornfully. "And how exactly will you find it? Where will you start?"

Ruth glanced away uncertainly. "I . . . I don't know," she admitted. "I'll come back here tomorrow and . . ."

"I told you, there's no pattern to what the Reflecting Pool shows you!" Milly's voice rose in aggravation. "You can't come back at the same time tomorrow morning and think you can just pick up at the same place." She gave a bark of harsh laughter and stalked away. "If you even know what time it is, which you don't because there are no clocks around here! Haven't you noticed that?" She stopped so quickly that Ruth, following her closely, almost ran into her. "I told you, time is different here. Sometimes you come back to the Pool days later and not even a minute has passed. And sometimes you go and have lunch and come back and they've aged a year." She glared at Ruth. "Didn't I tell you? That's why you have to be careful coming here! You see things happening and you can't stop them and you can't fix them and you can't help them! You're just a memory, you can't do anything!" She stomped away again.

"You don't understand!" Ruth yelled back, running after her. "I left them! I left her! I owe it to her!" She swiped away angry tears. "I owe it to her," she continued, her voice dropping in volume. "She didn't deserve a mother who just disappeared right when she needed one the most. Russ . . ." she swallowed. "Okay, Russ was an adult and he made his own choices but Tempe . . . she was just a girl. She's different, she doesn't make friends easily, life is harder for her . . . I have to try . . ." She halted, her voice fading away.

Ahead of her, Milly turned back to face her, arms locked tightly around her waist. "Do you think you're the only one who left children behind who needed help?" She blinked back the tears that threatened to overflow and hugged her arms closer. "Seeley was 7 when I got sick," she said gruffly. "And Jared was only three. They were both still babies when I . . . when I left." The raw pain in her eyes brought more tears to Ruth's own. "When I heard about this place, the first thing I did was come here and you know what I saw?" Her lips barely moved to form the words. "My husband, their father, he . . . he was hitting Seeley. And you know what I could do about it? Nothing," she spat, coming back to stand toe to toe with Ruth. "Nothing." Her chin lifted defiantly. "So don't talk to me about what you owe your children. You don't know." Her eyes were bitter. "You don't know."

The two women stared at each other for a long while, mothers without children connected in a moment of memories and regrets. Finally, Ruth reached out and placed a gentle hand on the tightly crossed arms.

"Then we have to help each other make it up to our children." Milly huffed and looked away, refusing to let her tears fall. "There has to be a reason you were the first person I met today – unless you're part of the Welcome Wagon or something."

A faint smile curved her lips as Milly gave her head a small shake.

"No, I didn't think so." Ruth offered a smile of her own. "So there has to be a reason you were at the café when I got there, that you brought me here, that we saw our children together. Not just my daughter or your son but the two of them together." Her fingers squeezed the forearm she touched. "There has to be a reason."

Milly rolled her eyes. "Even if I believed that – which I don't," she insisted, "there isn't anything we can do. The Reflecting Pool isn't a doorway. It's just a . . . a mirror," she finished, shrugging. "It doesn't show you the past and you can't change the present. That's just how it is."

"But what about the future?" Ruth asked, pulling Milly's hands free. "What about influencing the future? Why can't we try to make sure our kids are happy? We're mothers," she added, her grin widening. "It's our job to interfere!"

"We can't," Millie insisted. "We just can't. Besides," her eyes slid away from Ruth's, "even if we could, it's against the rules. So just . . ."

"It worries me when I hear you speak of the rules, Millicent." A rich baritone voice spoke from just behind Ruth. "It usually portends your attempt to break them."

"Great. This is just what I need," Ruth heard her mutter when she turned around to see who had spoken. Her eyes traveled up and her breath froze in her lungs.

He was, in a word, beautiful, his features even and strong and regal. Chestnut hair glinted with sparks of fire in the bright sunlight, falling in thick waves from a broad, unlined forehead to brush his shoulders. He radiated power and dignity in such force the very outline of his broad shoulders seemed to blur and shimmer in the clear light of day.

He folded one of her hands between both of his and smiled down at her. She stared into his eyes, pulled into the gentle depths of green-flecked gold and felt the shame of every mistake she'd ever made, every crime she'd committed, every shadow that marked her soul. Her breath came back to her sharply, piercing through her lungs with the pain of what she'd seen inside herself.

"Welcome home, Ruth," he said softly and with her next breath a warm, lovely feeling of peace and serenity flooded her veins, wiping away the shame, healing the wounds left by the scars of her life. Her knees began to buckle.

A tight grip on her elbow distracted her, keeping her upright. "Don't kneel," Milly grumbled. "It totally goes to his head." She pulled Ruth back a few steps and nodded with a jerk. "Ruth, this is Gabe. He's one of the people who kind of runs this place. Obviously, he knows who you are."

"Ga . . . Gabe?" Ruth stammered, looking from one to the other in confusion.

"Millicent enjoys her little shortcuts," he responded, frowning at the unrepentant woman. "Now, what is this discussion of rules you were having?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Milly saw Ruth's mouth open to respond and elbowed her sharply. "We weren't talking about breaking rules, Gabe, and stop calling me Millicent. I was just explaining . . ."

"Milly took me to the Reflecting Pool," Ruth interrupted, "and we saw . . ." She hesitated, wondering if her answer would lead to a discussion of their argument.

"Temperance and Seeley?" Gabe said, his expression amused when both women turned stunned faces toward him.

"You know about our kids?" Milly's eyes narrowed with sudden suspicion.

Gabe smiled.

"What happens between them?" Ruth asked anxiously. "We only saw them speaking to each other – are they in love? Are they married?"

Gabe shook his head. "Those are questions I cannot answer," he said. "Those are decisions they have not yet made."

"Is she happy?" Ruth dared to ask. "My daughter . . . is she happy?"

Gabe again caught her gaze, reading the fears she held close to her heart. "She is content with her life," he responded, adroitly avoiding a specific answer to her question. He turned to Milly. "I am glad to hear you were not discussing how to break even more rules, Millicent." With a nod, he turned away.

"Wait!" Ruth called. "Gabe . . ." One eyebrow lifted when he looked at her. ". . . riel. Sir," she added, swallowing. "Is he . . . is he a good man?" she asked, hesitating.

"Hey!" Ruth ignored Millie's exclamation behind her.

The noble head inclined. "He is."

She nodded, chewing her bottom lip. "Can he make her happy?"

Gabriel considered her thoughtfully. "We are all responsible for our own happiness," he answered finally. "But, yes. She can be happy with him – if she allows herself to be," he added. He looked from her to Milly, his gaze lingering with an unspoken warning on Milly.

She hruumphed and studied her toes until he was gone.

Ruth watched him depart and then abruptly swiveled on one foot. Her expression fierce, she advanced on Milly.

"If he thinks your son is good for my Tempe," she said, "that's all I need to know. I'm going to make sure she gets him." She poked one finger against Milly's shoulder. "And you're going to help me."

"No, I'm not," Milly insisted. "We can't interfere. It's against the rules."

"My husband always said rules were made for other people," Ruth answered, her tone brooking no argument. "I want your son for my daughter and I'm going to have him. You will help me figure out how to make it happen." Her eyes gleamed dangerously.

"Do you know how much trouble we can get into?" Milly asked, even as her own eyes began to sparkle with excitement.

"I don't care."

"Hmm." Milly sniffed. "Who died and made you boss?"

Ruth thought for a moment and then smiled. "Me."

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><p><em>You guys! All those alerts after just the first chapter! No pressure though, right?<em> _Seriously, thanks! I'm glad you want to read more. I will do my best not to disappoint!_


	3. Step One

"Now remember - when we get there, just let me do the talking." Milly juggled the platter she carried. "Got it?"

"Sure," Ruth answered. "Whatever you say. Is he that bad?"

Milly shrugged. "He's not bad, exactly, just a little . . . touchy. You have to handle him the right way." She cast a glance at the woman walking determinedly beside her. "I'm not making any promises about this, you know. It may not work. She may not even still have one."

Ruth stopped abruptly. "What do you mean? You said everybody had one!"

"No, I didn't," Milly corrected her, halting her steps as well. "I said every _child_ has one, but most people lose their Guardian Angel when they grow up." They began walking again. "This is as good a place as any to start, though. If he can't help us . . . well, we'll cross that bridge if we come to it."

Ruth peeped at her from the side of her eye. "Does your son still have one?"

Milly shrugged again. "Of course."

"Then Tempe still has hers," Ruth responded obstinately.

Her friend's lips twisted humourously. "This isn't a competition, you know." She saw Ruth's chin lift and sighed. "Seeley's a cop, that's why he still has his." Ruth sent her a curious glance. "Soldiers, firefighters, cops - honest cops, I mean - people who protect others, those types of people usually keep the Angel assigned to them as children. With everyone else, it's sort of a case by case thing. This is it," she said, nodding at the fenced-in community just ahead.

Ruth observed it curiously. Slender silver bars stretched out on either side of them, glinting into the distance until bending at right angles to form a rectangular fence that surrounded three tall white stone buildings. A colorful garden filled the open spaces, the varied hues of the blossoms mingling in a kaleidoscope of color with the lush carpet of grass. The two women stopped where the thin silver bars twisted and turned to become two large wings that formed a closed gate. A small discreet plaque hanging at eye level read "_Guardian__ Angel__ Lodging__, __Unit__ 8."_

Milly punched in a set of numbers on the keypad below the plaque. There was a moment's quiet before a deep voice rumbled out of the speaker.

"Hello?"

She cleared her throat. "Hi, Micah!" she responded cheerfully. "It's me, Milly."

There was a long pause.

"Go away."

Milly tossed an embarrassed smile at Ruth. "I brought you cookies!" She held up the platter as if to show it off. There was no response. "They're snickerdoodles." Nothing. "From Julia's," she added, her tone somewhat desperate. She had just opened her mouth to speak again when the winged gate slowly opened.

"Are you sure you want to do the talking?" Ruth murmured as the two women entered the compound. "He seemed a bit upset with you."

Milly laughed self-consciously. "Upset? Oh, no," she shook her head. "He was just . . . teasing. He likes to tease."

"Hmm," Ruth closed her lips firmly and changed the subject. "So, the fence – is that to keep them in or us out?" she asked as she followed Milly into the building on the left and then into an open, cage-like elevator made of more silver bars.

"It's to keep us out," Milly answered as they left the elevator. "People are always asking the Angels to do them a favor, to help a child or a friend or whatever. In here, they can't be bothered." She stopped at one door and smiled cheekily. "Well, most of the time, anyway," she said and then rapped smartly.

"I never should have told you about those cookies." Ruth gasped and hastily backed up a few paces when the door opened abruptly and the owner of the rumbling bass voice she'd heard earlier filled the space. Her mouth dropped open as her eyes traveled up . . . and up and up. He was quite literally the largest man she'd ever seen, an enormous human mountain with massive biceps bulging from the sleeves of a white fitted t-shirt tucked into white pleated pants. He was bald, his ebony head and heavily muscled arms a stark contrast to the brilliant white of the hallway. He snatched the platter from Milly's hands. "I should have known you'd use it against . . ."

At that moment, he caught sight of Ruth and for a brief moment his gaping, slack-jawed expression mimicked hers.

"When did you . . ." His gaze flashed back to Milly. "How did you meet . . ." he shook his head. "You two know each other?" His eyes moved back and forth between them.

"You know Ruth?" Milly looked at him in surprise.

"I know all of my mothers," he answered, his voice curt. He stepped back a pace and beckoned them inside with a jerk of his head. "I guess you better come in." He arched a brow at Ruth who stood frozen in place. "You coming or not?"

"You're barefoot." She said the first words that came to her mind.

He scowled. "It's my home. I can't be barefoot in my own home?"

Milly grabbed Ruth's arm and dragged her into the apartment. "I love that you're barefoot," she said as she scooted past him. "I'm barefoot all the time when I'm home. I don't even know why I own shoes."

Ruth pulled her arm out of Milly's grasp, her surprise wearing off. "Wait, you said you know me? How do you know me? What did you mean, you know all your mothers?"

Micah set the platter down on the long counter that separated a small kitchen from the large main room, lifting one end of the cloth that covered the cookies to sniff them appreciatively. "The mothers of my children," he said absently, choosing a cookie. "The ones I protect."

The silence in the room finally hit him and he stopped chewing long enough to see both women staring at him in shock. "What?"

"You're the Guardian Angel for my daughter," Ruth said slowly, "and her son?" She punched Milly's arm. "See? I told you this was meant to be!"

Milly rubbed her arm where the punch had landed. "It's just a coincidence, Ruth. Stranger things have happened. Right, Micah?"

He shook his head, munching a second cookie. "It's not a coincidence. I have Boa to Bre."

"See?" Ruth hit Milly again. "There's a reason . . . what?" Her brow wrinkled in confusion when she turned back to the Angel.

Micah shrugged. "My children's last names start with Boa to Bre and your kids are in my geographic circle. That's why I have them."

"Guardian Angels are alphabetized?" Ruth looked at him in surprise.

His enormous chest swelled even bigger. "What, we can't be organized? You think we just draw names out of a hat or something?"

"No," Ruth shook her head. "I just . . . "

He gestured widely, his expression annoyed. "You think we just stand around waiting for babies to be born and then draw straws or call dibbs?"

"I didn't mean . . ."

"Do you know how many babies are born every year?" Micah snapped. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep track of all of them?"

"I think it's great that you're organized," Milly interrupted, smiling brightly at Micah. "It's a really great system. It's a great idea, really, it's just . . . great." Her voice trailed away when Micah glared at her.

"I'm sorry," Ruth's voice was small and timid. "I was just surprised . . . when I went through orientation, they had me listed as Ruth Keenan," she explained to the giant standing in front of her with his arms crossed over his massive chest. "So I thought . . . Tempe's real name isn't Brennan so . . ."

"I don't know anything about that," Micah shook his head. "You'll have to ask Management if you have questions. All I know is I got her when she was Joy Keenan and kept her when she became Temperance Brennan. I don't question Management," he sniffed.

Ruth nibbled on her lower lip. "Do you still . . . is she still under your protection?"

Micah stared at her in silence for a moment.

"I explained to her about kids growing up and stuff," Milly rushed to explain. "But she thinks because Seeley . . ."

"I still watch her." Micah's rumbling voice cut the other woman off. "Do you know what her work is?"

Ruth glanced uncertainly at Milly. "I think she's a teacher? I just got here . . . Milly took me . . . we went to the Reflecting Pool and I saw her . . . well, we saw both of them and . . ."

The Angel glowered at Milly. "You told me you were going to stay away from the Reflecting Pool for a while!"

"I was!" she responded quickly. "I did! I was just showing Ruth . . . It wasn't me!" she insisted. "Ruth asked to see her daughter and all of a sudden Seeley was there! It was an accident!"

Micah let out a single bark of laughter. "Ha! It's funny how your accidents wind up with me getting extra shifts, isn't it? When I finally get a day off what happens? Here you are again." He turned his heated stare on Ruth. "And this time you bring her? Like I didn't have enough to worry about when your kids met, now I have to deal with you two? Please, child," he waved away Milly's attempt to interrupt. "The answer is no. Whatever you two want, the answer is no."

"But you don't know what . . ." Ruth began.

"And I don't want to know," Micah insisted. "Those two cause me enough problems as it is. Olivia and I share that section of Bs but did she get assigned to them? No, she didn't," he answered himself, his voice rising with his irritation. "You know why she didn't get them? Because she's about this big - " he lowered his hand to just above his waist, "and about this wide - " his index finger and thumb separated about an inch. "She couldn't handle the two of them." His hands fisted on his hips as he glared at each of them. "If I'm not pulling him out of the way of some crazy guy with a gun or getting him rescued from a prison camp, I'm chasing her through a snake infested jungle - and do you know how big snakes get in the jungle?" he demanded of Ruth, who took one step back and shook her head rapidly. "Big. That's how big. Do I look like someone who likes snakes?" Ruth chanced a glance at Milly, wondering if he expected a response. 'Well, I don't. And before I know it, I'm having to rescue her, too . . . It's enough to mess with my blood pressure," he added. "So whatever you want, the answer is no."

"What do you mean, you had to rescue her, too?" Ruth asked, chewing on one fingernail.

"It's not like that, Micah," Milly spoke over Ruth's question. "We just saw them together and wondered if . . ."

"Oh, it's not like that _now,"_ the Angel said. "But it will be. I know what happened," he wagged one finger between them. "You probably saw your kids getting cozy with each other and now you want to know if they're all happily-ever-after and all that crap." He shook his head. "Well, I'm not going to help you. I need them separated - didn't I just tell you how much trouble they cause me?"

"Well, maybe I could do something," Ruth offered. "I could be Tempe's Guardian Angel, if that would help."

Milly closed her eyes and groaned. "Oh, no . . ."

Micah seemed to grow six inches. "Oh, you're just gonna walk in here and become a Guardian Angel, just like that!" The snap of his fingers was loud in the suddenly quiet room. "Just gonna come on in here and take one of my babies like I owe you money."

Ruth swallowed. "No, I didn't mean . . ."

"You just gonna come in here and become a Guardian Angel," Micah repeated, his head working on his neck, "like I didn't spend 25 years training before I earned my wings. Oh, no!" His hands waved widely, "You think all you have to do is say pretty please and they just give you a baby to take care of?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply . . ."

"You see that?" Micah pointed to a plaque on the wall, elegantly carved with the words _First__, __the__ Soul_. "You know what that is?"

Ruth shook her head mutely.

"That's the Guardian Angel motto. You know what that means?"

"You have a motto?" she asked, confused.

Micah took two steps back, throwing his arms out wide. "We can't have a motto?" he asked loudly, looking around the empty room.

"I just meant . . ."

"I think it's a great motto," Milly broke in, offering the offended Angel another wide smile. "I've always admired it. It really says it all, doesn't it?"

Ruth glared at her. "Stop it."

"I told you to let me do the talking," Milly muttered back.

"Well, you haven't been much help so far," Ruth shot back.

With one huge hand on each of their shoulders, Micah turned the women toward the door and shepherded them out. "You two need to go. I have to get ready for my book club meeting."

"Wait," Ruth said quickly. "I just wanted to ask . . ."

He shoved them through the open door. "The answer is no."

"But you don't know what . . ."

"Don't call me, I'll call you," he said, shutting the door firmly.

Seconds ticked by as they stared wordlessly at the smooth white surface before Milly sighed and looked at Ruth.

"I told you he was a bit touchy."


	4. Voice of Experience

"Maybe we could just hang around in front of the gates and wait for him to come out?" Ruth suggested, her voice hopeful. The two women sat by a lake, watching huge white swans float lazily in the middle of the water.

Milly shook her head. "Wouldn't work. They don't have to come and go through the gates."

"You've shot down every idea I've had," Ruth glared at her in frustration.

"Because they were bad ideas," her friend shrugged.

"Well, then, you think of something!"

Milly looked at her pointedly. "I've told you what I think and you don't want to hear it."

"Because I'm not going to just give up," Ruth argued. "This is just a little snag, that's all."

"You're dead," Milly responded, leaning back on her arms. "I'd say that's a pretty big snag."

"My husband always said, the harder they try to stop you from doing something the more fun it is to get away with it." Ruth repeated the other woman's pose.

"Yea, he sounds like a peach," Milly responded with a snort, then held her hands palms up in a sign of peace when Ruth immediately took offense. "Look, I'm just trying to get you to understand that what you think you want to do isn't as easy as you obviously think it is. First of all," she continued, leaning forward for emphasis, "even the Guardians can't force them to do anything. Nothing interferes with free will. And second . . ." she paused, her fingers tapping on her knee, "secondly, even when you manage to change something, it doesn't always turn out the way you want it to. Sometimes," she looked away, "your changes have intended consequences."

"I missed everything, Milly." Ruth's gaze was poignant. "Her first date, her first kiss. She's a college professor and I didn't even get to see her graduate from high school." She plucked at a few strands of brilliantly green grass. "I just want to be part of something in her life that's good. That's all."

"How do you know that includes Seeley?" Milly asked seriously. "We only saw them together for five minutes. They could have been fighting like cats and dogs right before then or they could be screaming at each other right now. You could be trying to force something that's not supposed to happen." She shook her head. "You said she was fifteen the last time you saw her. She looked a lot older than that when we saw her in the Reflecting Pool and you don't have any idea what kind of life she has now."

Ruth considered her words for a moment and then shook her head. "No. I'm right," she said. "There was something about him, your son," she clarified. "Something about the way he smiled at her." She lifted one shoulder. "He reminds me of my husband a bit. Max can be the most irritating, stubborn, bull-headed man and then he'll turn around and smile at you and just dare you not to love him anyway." She grinned ruefully at Milly. "Your son smiles like that," she said. "and Tempe needs someone like that. She was such a serious little thing growing up and if I know my daughter, she hasn't changed. If she doesn't have someone to shake her out of that a bit, she'll live like that forever and that's not the life I want for her. There has to be a way I can help." She considered the other woman thoughtfully. "How did you meet Micah?"

Milly sighed heavily. "He found me at the Reflecting Pool. I hadn't been here very long and when I heard about it, I ran there as fast as I could and, well," she chanced a brief glance at Ruth, "I told you what I saw. I sat down right there and I cried and I cried. And then Micah was there and he told me who he was and that he was the boys' Guardian. And he apologized to me," she laughed bitterly. "He apologized to me that he wasn't able to be there to shield them every time it happened - which only made me feel worse because that meant it was something that happened over and over again." She made a face. "So I started following him around and asking him about the boys all the time. I guess he felt sorry for me because he showed me his Window and . . ."

"I'm sorry," Ruth interrupted, "his window?"

"His Guardian's Window. They all have one," Milly explained. "It's like this TV, sort of," she said, drawing a box with her hands. "It's how they watch their charges, so they know if they need to get involved." Ruth nodded her understanding. "So, anyway, he would let me come in and watch them and it was fine, mostly, and then . . ."

Ruth waited for several seconds. "And then?"

Milly blew out a puff of air. "I begged and I begged until he finally let me go down there with him." She stared toward the clear blue of the cloudless sky above before closing her eyes. "A few years had passed for them since I died and they had grown so much, they were getting so big and I just wanted to see them, you know? I just wanted to be close to them." Her gaze fastened on her hands, locked together on her lap as the story tumbled out in a rush of words. "It was supposed to be a short visit and then right back here, no big deal. But then Joe . . . my husband . . . well, it was bad. And I shouldn't have been there at all but I was and I saw Seeley hide Jared in the closet and then . . . and Micah was holding him and Seeley was trying so hard not to cry out and then I thought about Hank and the next thing I know I'm in Hank's living room and I'm yelling at him to go see the boys and when he finally hears me, sort of, he sees everything and then he kicks Joe out and that's what I've been trying to tell you!" she yelled. "Just because you change something doesn't mean you make it better! I interfered," she said fiercely. "And because of that, Joe left. Hank raised the boys but Joe never got the help he should have had, and if he had gotten help that could have saved them, they could still have been a family, the three of them. But that didn't happen because I stuck my nose in where I shouldn't have." She hunched forward and stared morosely over the lake.

"Who's Hank?" Ruth asked quietly.

"Their grandfather," Milly answered shortly.

"You protected your sons," Ruth said quietly. "Isn't that a good thing?"

"Yes," Milly nodded. "But I cost them their father. He was a good man," she added, her voice quiet, "before I got sick and before he started drinking. And if he'd gotten help, it could have been different. So I'm telling you again," she caught Ruth's eyes and held them, "you need to leave this alone. You need to let what's going to happen happen. Or not happen, however it works out." She looked away, muttering, "Before you end up in front of Michael . . . and then you'll wish you'd never died."

Ruth frowned. "Michael, the Ar . . ."

Milly shushed her in alarm. "Yes, shhh!" She looked around quickly. "He might hear you you. Did you not listen at all during orientation? Michael is one of the people in charge."

"Oh," Ruth nodded. "Like Gabriel."

"Well, sort of," Ruth shook her head. "Gabe is all, _oooooh__, I'm Gabriel_," she said, waving her hands in the air, "and Raffy is . . . well, Raffy is -" she raised her eyebrows suggestively, gave a short whistle and fanned herself rapidly, "but Michael is . . ." her voice trailed off.

Ruth grinned. "No pet name for Michael? Mikey or The Big M or something?"

Milly laughed without humor. "I call him 'Sir,'" she answered pointedly, "and I'd rather not call him anything because I'd rather he forget I'm here. Trust me," she nodded, "you do not want to be called in front of Michael."

"Something you know from experience, I guess?" Ruth asked, her lips twitching.

"I'm trying to save you from yourself," Milly harrumphed. "You could at least pretend to take my advice." There was a moment of silence. "You aren't going to, are you?"

Ruth considered for a moment and then shook her head. "No. I appreciate what you told me," she said sincerely, "but I think you're judging yourself too harshly and that you did the right thing for your children." She stood up and dusted bits of grass from her slacks. "And I'm going to do the right thing for mine."

Milly hurried to stand up, too. "What does that mean? What are you going to do?"

She wrinkled her nose as she thought it over. "I guess I'm going to start by following Micah around. It worked for you." She started off back toward the Guardian's lodging.

Milly caught up quickly. "He won't like that, you know. It was a long time ago and he's not so soft-hearted. He didn't seem to want to help us when we were there earlier."

Ruth shrugged and kept walking. "My husband says that sometimes people don't know they want to help you until you force them to."

"Your husband is really starting to get on my nerves," Milly muttered.


	5. One Rainy Night

Milly covered Ruth's hand with her own before the other woman could key in the code on the numbered pad outside the Guardian's lodging. "Okay," she hissed, looking around furtively. "Okay. I'll do it. I'll do it!"

"You'll do what?" Ruth's confusion was evident.

Milly looked at her meaningfully, her eyes wide. "I'll take you down there," she answered, her voice barely above a whisper as she tugged Ruth away from the gate. "That's what you've been angling for, isn't it?"

"Take me down there?" Ruth glared at her back. "You said I couldn't go back!"

"Shhhh!" Milly's eyes roamed the area around them as she lead the way along the fence line. "You can't go back. Dead is dead. But you can . . . visit."

"I can visit?" Ruth's voice rose with her anger. "Don't play semantics with me! Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Because I'm trying to stay out of trouble!" Milly stopped abruptly, turning around to face the irate woman. "And I was hoping you'd change your mind and be reasonable - which is obviously not your strong suit!" she sniffed with a toss of her long, dark hair.

"I don't have to listen to . . ."

"Do you want to go down there?" Milly's eyes gleamed with challenge. Ruth held her gaze, her own eyes narrowed to slits.

"Yes," she bit out finally. "Why don't you just point me in the right direction and I'll figure it out by myself?" she asked harshly.

"Oh, no," Milly laughed scornfully and shook her head. "If I'm going to get in trouble for this - and I am!" she added, "then I'm going to know why. Besides," she muttered, walking away, still following the perimeter, "if my son is involved, I want to know what you're doing." She stopped at a narrow gate in the long stretch of fence line almost hidden behind a large hydrangea bush. "Here." She glanced around once more. "Stick close to me and act like you belong, okay?" The silver bars swung open soundlessly at her touch. "If we see anyone just say you're visiting Micah, got it?" They crept slowly inside. "Better yet, don't say anything at all. I'll handle it." Ruth nodded and followed silently.

They had entered the grounds near the back of the Guardian's building, facing a smooth, windowless wall. There was no one else in sight. Milly took a deep breath and sauntered casually across the brilliant emerald grass. She looked back once, just to make sure Ruth was at her shoulder.

"See that little white building?" she asked, speaking out of the side of her mouth as she indicated with a jerk of her head a small structure situated between two large weeping willow trees. It was small, no larger than a free-standing broom closet, its clean, simple lines dappled with shade from the overhanging branches draping gracefully around it.

Ruth nodded. "The one that says 'No Trespassing, Keep Out, Do Not Enter'?"

"Yep. We're going in there."

"Of course we are," Ruth muttered.

Milly's eyes slanted in her direction. "We don't have to. Now's your chance to change your mind."

Ruth squared her shoulders. "No. I'm doing this." Her chin lifted stubbornly.

"Okay then." With another fast glance around at the empty courtyard, Milly hurried them over to the small shed. When the two women stood in front of the door, she laid her hands on Ruth's shoulders and pulled her forward. Standing close behind her, she whispered, "All right - open the door, say your daughter's name silently and step through." Ruth's shoulders lifted with the deep breath she took as she reached out for the handle.

"Wait!" Milly's voice stopped her; Ruth looked back in alarm.

"What?"

Milly's fingers clutched for the free hand that rested at Ruth's side. "I'm going with you." She smiled and squeezed tightly. "Okay, now go ahead."

Ruth licked her lips nervously, took another deep breath and pulled the door open. The room inside was dark and despite her efforts to peer in, no light from the bright sunlight outside penetrated.

"We don't have to go," Milly's soft whisper strengthened her resolve. She closed her eyes.

"Temperance Brennan," she spoke silently in her head, and stepped over the threshold.

.

.

.

.

Disoriented at first, both women looked around the shadowed interior of the bar in confusion. Suddenly, Milly slapped Ruth's arm. "There!" she pointed. "There's Seeley!" She rushed over to the bar, a napkin from a nearby table drifting to the floor as she passed. The waitress delivering drinks to the next table sighed as she bent down to pick it up.

Ruth, eyes on her daughter, hurried to join Milly. In her haste, she brushed against the tray the waitress carried and the napkin floated again to the floor.

"What the . . ." The waitress plastered a false smile on her face and shrugged at the patrons she'd just served. "I guess we have a window open somewhere," she joked.

"I told you they'd be together!" Ruth crowed as she joined Milly, watching as their children clinked glasses and downed a shot of liquor.

"Shut up," Milly grunted, her eyes on her son. She smiled widely and nudged Ruth. "Isn't he handsome?"

"Tempe looks tired," Ruth murmured. "And I wish she'd do something besides scrape her hair back in that ponytail. She always did that . . ."

"Shhhh!" Milly shushed her.

"_Check__ this __out__," __Booth__ said__, __his __eyes __twinkling __as__ he __raised __his __tie __to__ show__ off __the __pinup __design__ on__ the __underside__. "__Huh__?" _

_Brennan __chuckled__, __amused__ at__ his__ silliness__. _

"_Okay__, __I__ am__ declaring __my__ individuality__," __he __continued__. "__I __am__ going __rogue__."_

"What is he talking about?" Ruth asked, frowning at Milly. "What does he mean, he's going rogue?"

"I don't know," the other woman waved impatiently. "Hush," she hissed. "I can't hear them."

"I think he's drunk," Ruth sniffed.

Milly glared her into silence.

"_Okay__ here__," __Booth __poured __more __tequila __into __their __glasses__. "__You __know__, __you __handle __your__ liquor __very__ well__."_

"_Well__," __Brennan__ lifted __her __glass__, __staring __at __the __liquid __through __the __light__, "__this __stuff __is __nothing __compared __to __the __Bhang __I __had __to __drink __as __a __grad __student __in __India__. __It__'__s __made__ of __fermented__ cannabis__."_

"Tempe!" Ruth's voice betrayed her shock as she stared open-mouthed at her daughter.

"Do you mind?" Milly asked impatiently. "I can't listen to them and you, too!"

Their children clinked glasses again and tossed back another shot of tequila. Booth leaned one elbow on the bar, his slightly intoxicated expression happily smitten.

"_You__'__re __fired__," __he __said __casually__, __his __smile __wide __and __happy__. _

"What?" Ruth exclaimed. "I thought she was a teacher, how can he fire her?" For once, Milly didn't chastise her for interrupting. Instead, she looked as confused as Ruth.

"I don't know," she shrugged.

"_Why__ am__ I __fired__?" __Brennan__ asked, her expression incredulous__._

"_You__'__re __fired __because __you __assaulted __a f__ederal j__udge__."_

"Your daughter assaulted a judge?" Milly eyed Ruth askance.

_Brennan__ poured __another __drink __for __each __of __them__. "__No__," __she__ said__, "__you __thought __that __was __hot__."_

"He thought it was HOT?" Ruth looked at Milly for an explanation.

"_I__ did__," __Booth __grinned__. "__I __did__. __It __was __very __hot__."_

"I think they're both drunk," Milly shrugged.

_Brennan__ leaned__ forward and __crooked __her __fingers __to __draw__ Booth __closer__, __resting__ her __wrist __on__ his__ forearm__. "__Hey__."_

"_Yeah__," __Booth__'__s__ shoulders __tilted __toward __her__. _

_Brennan__'__s__ voice __lowered __to __a__ whisper__. "__If __we __don__'__t __work __together __anymore__, __we__ can __have __sex__."_

"Tempe!"

"He fires her and she wants to go to bed with him?" Milly snickered. "What kind of kid did you raise?"

"_I__'__ll__ call __a __cab__."_

Ruth smacked Milly's arm. "What kind of kid did YOU raise? He's taking advantage of her - she's drunk!"

"She was the one pouring all those shots!" Milly argued. "She's taking advantage of him!"

"No," Ruth began, " . . . wait, where are they going?"

The mothers raced to follow their children, stopping abruptly behind Booth as he yelled toward the cab.

"_Hold__ on__, __hold __on__, __listen__. __Hold__ that __cab__!" __He__ grabbed __Brennan__'__s __arm__. "__Listen__. __I've __got __something __to __confess__." _

"_What__?" __she__ asked__,__watching __him __closely__, __her__ eyes __roving __over __his __face__. "__Is__ it __the __fact __that __you__'__re__ a __direct__ descendant __of __John __Wilkes __Booth__? __I __already __know__ that__."_

Ruth's head turned toward Milly.

She threw her hands up. "Don't look at me like that," she said. "You can't tell me you don't have a few bad apples in your family tree."

"_Just __keep __that__, __um__, __under __your __hat__," __Booth__ stuttered__. "__Okay__? __For __now__. __Alright__?"_

"_Okay__." __Brennan __smiled __at __him__, __amused__ at __his __discomfort__. _

_Booth__ took __a __deep __breath__, __his __expression __becoming __serious__. "__What__ I__ wanted __t__o __confess __was__," __he __began__, "__see__ . . . __I __have __a __gambling __problem __but __I__'__m__ dealing __with __it__."_

"Your son is a gambler?" Ruth turned in shock to Milly.

"Yea, well," Milly said, instantly defensive, "your kid drank alcoholic weed. Don't start."

"_I __don__'__t __know__," __Booth __continued__, "__I __just __feel __like__," __he __hesitated__, ". . . __um__ . . .__this __is __going__ somewhere__ . . ."_

"He's going to kiss her," Ruth watched them avidly, her eyes misting.

"_Why __did __you __feel __this __is __going __somewhere__?" __Brennan __asked__, __inching__ closer__._

"He's going to kiss her," Ruth repeated, bouncing on her toes.

"WILL YOU SHUT UP?"

"_I__ just__," __Booth__ whispered__, __his __voice __husky __and __low__, "__I __feel __like __I__'__m__ gonna __kiss __you__ . . ."_

"I told you! He's going to . . ."

"Oh for crying out loud," Milly exclaimed, then reached out with one hand and nudged Brennan off balance, into Booth's kiss.

Ruth slapped her on the back, smiling brightly, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. "I told you! Now see? Aren't you glad we came down?"

The horn of an impatient taxi cut off any response Milly might have made. Brennan broke off the kiss and ran through the rain to the car. Booth stood in the doorway, off balance, grinning happily.

"_Wow__," __he __said__, __smiling __happily__. _

"He said _'__wow_,'" Ruth repeated, primping a bit when Milly just rolled her eyes.

"_We__ are __not __spending __the __night __together__," __Brennan __laughed__, backing __up __toward __the __waiting __cab__. _

"Wait . . . what?" Milly and Ruth shared a confused look.

"_Of __course __we __aren__'__t__," __Booth __agreed__. "__Why__?"_

"Yea, why not?" Milly muttered, staring between Brennan and Booth.

_Brennan__ opened __the __door __and__ slid __in__. "__Tequila__," __she __answered __simply__._

Ruth cleared her throat gently and raised her eyebrows at Milly. "That's what kind of kid I raised," she sniffed.

"Shut up."

_Booth__ raced __to __the __cab__. "__Hey__, __hey__," __he __called__ out__, __knocking __on __the __window__. "__Hold__ the __cab__. __Hold __the __cab__." _

_Brennan__ rolled __down__ the __window__._

_He __leaned closer,__ smiling__ into __her __eyes__. "__So__, __you__'__re __afraid __when __I __look __at __you__ in __the __morning__, __I__'__ll __have __regrets__?"_

_She__ smiled __confidently__. "__That __would __never __happen__," __she __said__, __her __husky__ laughter __lingering __in __the __street __as __the __cab __pulled __away__. _

"She's kind of cocky, isn't she," Milly murmured, watching her son watch the cab disappear into the rain streaked night.

"She takes after her father," Ruth answered as like Booth, she stared at the cab ferrying her daughter away.

When the tail lights were no longer visible, Booth hunched his shoulders and looked back at the bar, at the flickering light beckoning him back into the pool hall.

"Don't do it, son," Milly murmured, stepping forward, reaching out to him. "Don't do it." Her shoulders relaxed when he walked away, closing his jacket against the cool rain. Silently, the two women watched him make his way across the street and flag down a passing cab and then he, too, was gone.

Suddenly, Ruth chuckled and nudged Milly with one elbow.

"Told ya."


	6. The Wrench in the Works

Ruth sighed happily before closing her eyes firmly shut.

"Wait – what are you doing?" Milly asked as she placed a hand on the other woman's forearm.

Ruth's eyes blinked open. "I'm going with Tempe. This is my chance to find out what kind of life she has," she explained.

"No," Milly shook her head. "No. We need to get back before we're missed or before someone notices we're here."

"We will," Ruth agreed. "I just want a little more time with her first."

"I don't think so," Milly disagreed. "It's better if we go back now."

"Come on, Milly," Ruth coaxed. "Don't you want to go with Seeley? Don't you want to be with him for just a little while longer?"

Torn between competing impulses, Milly stared back for a long moment. "Yes, I do," she said finally. "Okay. Obviously, our kids are going to see each other again so there's no harm in us separating now. But the next time they meet up, we're going back. Agreed?"

"Sure," Ruth nodded. "Of course. Whatever you say." She pulled Milly into a tight hug. "Thank you for this, Milly. It means so much to me." Her smile beamed bright in the rain-drenched night and then, before Milly could interrupt again, she closed her eyes and with the next blink, was gone.

Milly's gaze stayed on the now empty space for minute longer, watching the raindrops she couldn't feel bounce on the pavement. "This is not going to end well," she murmured before she, too, closed her eyes and in the span of an unspoken thought, disappeared.

.

.

.

Ruth found herself sitting beside her daughter as the cab she'd left in drove through the darkened streets. Brennan stared silently out the window, lost in thought. Ruth watched her, fascinated, cataloging all of the changes time and age had brought . . . changes she'd missed seeing as they happened. Unable to resist, her fingers drifted over the messy ponytail Brennan's hair was pulled into.

"Not a day passed that I didn't think of you, Tempe," Ruth whispered into the silence of the cab. "Not an hour passed that you weren't in my heart. I hope one day you'll forgive us."

Brennan's shoulders lifted in a heavy sigh as the cab slowed down, pulling to a stop in front of a large apartment building. Ruth got out with her, waiting patiently as Brennan paid the driver before heading inside.

Entering Brennan's apartment she looked around curiously, gathering clues to her daughter's life in the ordered, neat display of the possessions with which she surrounded herself. She heard Brennan's light step disappear down the hallway, saw a light flicker on, recognized the sound of water running and smiled. Almost, she could let herself believe this was a moment she'd longed for, a moment she'd never experienced . . . her daughter returning home from school or from a trip away, Russ and Max nearby and apt to join them at any minute. Almost she could let herself get lost in the memories of the home and family she'd once had and given up.

Sighing, she continued her inspection. Her chest swelled with pride when she found the diplomas hanging in heavy frames on the walls, testifying to her brilliant daughter's continued academic prowess. Intrigued, she read carefully a letter lying on top of a thick manuscript, thrilled and impressed when she recognized the publisher's letterhead and realized her daughter would soon have a book published.

She laughed when the faint sound of cursing came from the bedroom and immediately headed toward her daughter. Brennan was lying in bed staring at the ceiling, muttering to herself. Intrigued, Ruth sat down next to her and pulled her knees to her chin, watching and listening.

"Temperance Brennan, you are an idiot." One fist clenched in the bedding.

"You aren't an idiot, baby," Ruth answered automatically, reaching out to pat her daughter's arm.

"Intellectually no, of course not," Brennan replied. Ruth started, surprised, and then relaxed as she realized that in her inebriated, tired state, Brennan heard her mother's words as part of her own, internal conversation. "I was speaking metaphorically."

"Of course," Ruth murmured, biting back a smile. Memories filtered into her mind, memories of other nights like this, just the two of them sitting up late, sharing a bowl of popcorn and talking about boys and the hopes and dreams of a young girl, the private moments shared between a mother and daughter.

"However strong my feelings of regret at the moment," Brennan continued, "I stand by my decision to sleep alone tonight. It's not idiotic to recognize the influence of alcohol on my decision-making process. Sexual relationships should not be entered into without careful thought and analysis."

"I think you made the right decision, Tempe," Ruth nodded sagely.

"Of course, it may not have led to a relationship," Brennan added, her eyes closing. "It might have been simply a one-time event. I could have let him – what was that phrase Angela used? Rock my world? Yes. I could have let him rock my world and said goodbye the next morning." Brennan sighed heavily, nestling deeper into her bed. "Although from Angela's description, the possibility exists that I would not have been happy with only a one time occurrence, if that had been the case."

Ruth listened to her daughter coolly discussing having a one night stand with Seeley and frowned. "He got you drunk and made a pass at you, baby. Men do that kind of thing all the time to get a woman into bed."

Brennan's head shook against the pillow. "No. Although I haven't known him very long, I find that type of behavior hard to reconcile with what I do know about Booth. Besides, he was also drunk and considering the effect alcohol can have on a man's sexual performance, if his intention had been to lure me into bed it would have been more rational for him to abstain from drinking himself."

Her mother laughed. "Sweetie, men have all kinds of tricks – haven't you learned that yet? Especially men that look like him. Trust me, you made the right decision."

"Yes." Brennan sighed again. "Yes, I believe I did. But now that I'm alone in bed I find myself wishing I had not been so wise."

"I saw the spark between the two of you," Ruth whispered, brushing her fingers against her daughter's dark hair lying spread out on the pillow beneath her head. "There will be other opportunities, the right opportunities."

"Do you think so?" Her voice, so near to sleep, sounded young and tentative and hopeful and in the dark, Ruth swallowed past the lump in her throat in order to answer.

"Yes, baby, I do. And you won't be drunk and you won't have to wonder if he got you drunk on purpose."

"Yes, those would be more appropriate circumstances," Brennan murmured, her voice fading away as she slipped into sleep.

"Much more appropriate, honey," Ruth spoke softly, watching her daughter sleep. "You are too special to let yourself get swept up by a pair of broad shoulders and big brown eyes. You deserve better than a drunken one-night stand."

.

.

.

.

.

Ruth saw Milly walking behind Booth as he headed up the stairs toward Brennan's office. "Milly!" She rushed over to grab the other woman's arm and drag her forward. "Come here! Look at this place!" She pulled Milly into Brennan's office. "Look! This has been fascinating! Do you know what she does, what Tempe does? She has three doctorates – THREE!" she exclaimed, laughing happily. "I've been here all morning, she has all these people who work with her – she's a scientist! Oh," she closed her eyes, "Max would be so thrilled to know that. Look!" she said again, pointing at the skull Brennan held. "Do you know what that is?"

Milly looked from the stained object to Ruth. "It's a skull," she said slowly.

"Yes, yes," Ruth nodded, "but not just any skull. It's ancient!" she added, her brows raising significantly. "Old! That's what Tempe does! She has all of these awards and degrees and . . . oh!" She grabbed Ruth's arm again. "She's writing a book, too! I saw the letter from the publisher and . . ."

"Okay, I've got it." Milly shook off Ruth's hand. "Your little girl has done well for herself. That's great. Really, I'm very happy for you." Her eyes narrowed as she took in Brennan's closed mouth expression as Booth peered around the office doorway.

"_You're back, baby!" he said happily, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "You're re-hired!"_

"_But I've moved on," Brennan answered, her tone short and dismissive._

"What's wrong with her?" Milly asked.

"What do you mean, what's wrong with her?" Ruth studied her daughter in confusion.

"Something is wrong," Milly insisted. "Why is she so mad at Seeley?"

"I don't know . . ."

"_. . . Okay, abracadabra can wait," Booth insisted, ignoring Brennan's annoyed, pursed lip expression. "We have a warrant for the judge's car so let's go." _

_Brennan stared at him, eyes narrowed in anger. _

"_What's the matter?" he continued. "Get your coat," he ordered. "Chop- chop!"_

_Brennan threw down her pencil and grabbed her coat, fuming, not looking at him as she stormed out of her office._

Milly and Ruth slipped in behind their children in the SUV. The ride was a short one but tense as Brennan stared stonily out the window, ignoring the questioning gazes Booth repeatedly tossed in her direction. She exited the vehicle almost before it had come to a complete stop, finding a spot where she could watch the technicians as they examined the vehicles there.

"Something's wrong," Milly said again. "She was not angry when she left last night." She looked suspiciously at Ruth. "What did you do?"

"Me?" Ruth expression was innocent. "What do you mean, what did I do?"

"Something happened between last night and right now that made her angry. What was it?" Milly faced Ruth, hands planted on her hips, her ire apparent.

"I didn't do anything!" Ruth insisted. "We just had a nice mother/daughter talk, like we used to before . . . when she was younger, that's all. Not that she'll remember it," she admitted, "Obviously. I mean, Tempe was mostly asleep. And a little drunk."

"That's all?" Milly asked, her tone skeptical.

_Finally, Booth could stand it no longer. "Is something wrong?" he asked, leaving the technicians to join Brennan as she watched the activity, arms crossed firmly over her chest._

"_I find I'm annoyed with you," she said shortly._

"_Why? Because I fired you and hired you back?" Booth scoffed. "It's the Federal Government" _

"_No," she answered, her tone impatient. "Because you got me drunk to fire me and then have sex with me."_

"What?" Milly screeched, turning angrily to Ruth. "That is not what happened!"

"Yes it is," Ruth insisted. "He kept pouring those tequila shots and then he made a pass at her."

"They got each other drunk," Milly said angrily. "Your daughter is the one who brought up sex in the first place! And then changed her mind," she pointed out with a sneer, "which Seeley accepted like a perfect gentleman." Her eyes narrowed. "That's what wrong with her, isn't it?" she hissed. "You spent all night telling your daughter Seeley was some kind of deranged Lothario who had probably slipped her a mickey or something, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't!" Ruth answered hotly. "All I said was . . ." The hot voices of their children interrupted their own argument.

"_You know what?" Booth asked, moving closer, invading her space as he looked at her pointedly. "You really need to learn how to speak to human beings"_

"_I speak six languages," she answered, choosing to interpret him literally. "Two of which you've never even heard of."_

"_You know what?" he shot back. "You're a cold fish."_

"_You're a superstitious moron," she responded._

"Oh, no," Milly whispered, her mouth falling open in shock.

"_Get a soul," he threw out._

"_Get a brain," Brennan retorted._

"What's happening?" Ruth's voice was barely audible behind the hands that covered her mouth in horror.

"Your little mother/daughter talk happened," Milly bit out. "I hope you're happy."

Ruth shook her head silently, watching in painful silence as the two of them argued for a few more moments before Brennan stormed off angrily.

"What are we going to do?" she whimpered into the harsh silence that reigned between the two of them.

"I don't know," Milly answered sadly, watching Booth handcuff the judge. "I knew we should have gone back last night."

.

.

.

.

The two of them, Booth and Brennan, didn't speak to each other again before Booth dropped her off in front of the Jeffersonian.

"Let me know about the DNA . . ." he began, his words cut off as she angrily threw open her door.

"Who else would I notify?" she pointed out with a huff, slamming the door behind her. Ruth only just managed to get out of the vehicle in time.

"I'll send someone to get you for the interrogation," he called out as she stomped away. He slammed his fist on the steering wheel before pulling out, the tires on the SUV screaming loudly. Ruth held Milly's eye helplessly as she disappeared into traffic with her son.

.

.

.

Near the end of the day, Booth sent another agent to the Jeffersonian to request Brennan's presence as the judge was questioned. Still furious, she gritted her teeth and agreed to go, her jaw clenched tight.

When they arrived, Ruth immediately went to Milly's side. "I'm sorry," she began. "I didn't know any of this would . . ."

"Yea, whatever," Milly shrugged off her apology. "I warned you, didn't I?" she reminded the other woman. "Didn't I warn you that sometimes when we try to help we make things worse?"

Ruth bit her lip and didn't respond. The two women maintained an uneasy silence as they watched Booth prod for answers from the judge.

"He's good," Ruth murmured, glancing quickly at Milly. "I mean, I have a little experience with cops," she added, "and he's good."

"Yea," Milly agreed, "he is." She watched Brennan whisper into the ear of the woman she sat beside, who relayed a message to Booth. "So is she," she added, grudgingly. "Your daughter. She really is as smart as she thinks she is."

The tentative truce remained throughout the rest of the interview, until the judge was left alone with his attorney when the other three left the room. An agent brought a message to Booth immediately; he read it and passed it to Brennan who scanned it silently. He opened his mouth to speak, read her expression and closed it again, walking slightly in front of her as he led the way to a small office where a short, gray-haired woman waited.

"Milly," Ruth held the other woman back when she would have followed her son into the office. "I'm sorry. I am," she insisted sincerely. "I didn't know that what I said would make Tempe angry. I just wanted to warn her . . ."

"Warn her?" Milly cut in. "Warn her about my son?"

"Not necessarily about Seeley," Ruth said. "About men like him . . ."

"Men LIKE HIM?" Ruth shot back. "What does that mean?"

"Oh, come on," Ruth laughed. "Look at him. Men who look like that always have plenty of tricks to lure women in. I just wanted Tempe to be prepared -"

Milly advanced on Ruth angrily. "You don't know anything about my son," she hissed. "You don't know what he's like, what he's capable of, what he wants out of life, nothing!"

"And you don't know anything about my daughter!" Ruth answered, her voice rising. "You don't know what she's been through . . ."

"Well, I do know that I'm a little tired of this _"Poor Tempe"_ shtick you've got going," Milly inserted. "Especially when you want my son to ride to the rescue and save her from what you did by running out on her!"

"How dare you!" Ruth responded, appalled. "We didn't have a choice!"

"There's always a choice," Milly snapped. "And it sure sounds like you made yours before she was even born."

Caught up in their own argument, the two mothers had missed the one raging inside the office between their children. Suddenly, Booth dragged Brennan outside into the hallway, unknowingly stopping right beside them.

"_Let go of me," Brennan insisted, jerking her arm out of his grasp._

"_I will," Booth began, "if you would just . . ."_

_Without warning, Brennan slapped him. _

_Booth jerked with the force of the blow. "What the hell?"_

Milly and Ruth gasped in unison. "Oh!" "Tempe!"

"She hit him!" Milly said angrily. "What is her problem?"

"_You are a bully," Brennan said, tears of anger in her voice and in her eyes. "You . . . you grabbed my arm, just like the judge. You use your gun and your badge to intimidate people."_

_Booth stared back at her, incensed. "Really? You use your brain to make people around you feel stupid."_

"_Well, you are a stupid man," Brennan shot back. "I hate you."_

"_Oh, you hate me," he sneered. "What, are you 10 years old? I'm not your dad!"_

Ruth gasped loudly. "I can't believe he said that."

"She hit him!" Milly responded hysterically.

"I can't believe he brought her father up . . ."

"He probably doesn't even know that you two ran off and abandoned your kids," Milly defended her son hotly.

Ruth drew in a sharp breath. "It's too bad she didn't hit him harder."

"Oh yea," Milly stepped closer, her voice low and dangerous. "Why don't you see if you can get her to try to hit him again and let's see what happens this time?"

"Maybe I . . ."

"Millicent. Ruth." At the sound of the soft voice, Milly's eyes widened, the anger and heat dropping from them in a rush, leaving only a very obvious fear. Ruth glanced over at the man who had spoken and froze.

He was tall and deceptively lean, the black suit he wore managing only to cover but not conceal the strength in his frame. Ink-colored hair swept back from a wide forehead to fall in undulating waves to his shoulders, providing the only hint of softness in a face as sharply chiseled as a Roman centurion carved into a hillside temple. Curled behind his eyes, so richly black there was no discernible difference between pupil and iris, Ruth recognized power – immense, raw, leashed only by the control and force of will of the warrior who stood at the front of the armies of God.

"S . . .s . . . sir?" Milly stammered.

Michael's eyes swept from one to the other. "I am disappointed," he said simply, his voice as free of expression as his face. His gaze held Ruth's and immediately she felt her knees quiver as the sting of tears filled her eyes.

"I require your presence," he said and turned away, his movements fluid and sharply graceful.

Ruth felt Milly's hand slip into hers and squeeze tightly. Neither of them knew if the trembling they felt was from her own fingers or the ones they clung to.

.

.

.

* * *

><p><em>They couldn't just leave well enough alone, could they? Tsk tsk tsk<em>


	7. Taken to Task

With one step forward, Ruth and Milly found themselves just inside the closed doors of a large office. Ahead of them, across what appeared to be miles of hardwood floor, Michael sat behind a glossy desk the size of a small pond. He beckoned them forward with the bend of two fingers; their hands still tightly linked, they shuffled slowly toward him.

"Sit." With a glance he indicated two severe-looking chairs placed directly in front of his desk. The tall ladder backs and hard, unpadded seats offered no promise of comfort, the armless style providing nothing to cling to should they wish it. Their eyes met nervously before they sat down.

"Who would like to begin?" he asked. His voice was soft, expressionless, his hands lying motionless on the polished surface of the desk, the fingers of the left crossing the fingers of the right. He sat straight and upright, shoulders back, his posture perfect as he looked from one to the other, his face blank.

The room was silent.

He waited.

One black eyebrow rose infinitesimally.

From the corner of her eye Ruth saw Milly swallow, the muscles in her throat working as her shoulders lifted with a deep breath.

"It's my fault," she said, the words escaping her in a rush. "Milly - I forced Milly to help me. She didn't do anything wrong." Her fingers twisted together in her lap.

"You are at fault," Michael nodded. "However, Millicent accompanied you below. She is not blameless." Ruth squirmed on the hard seat when his fathomless black eyes caught and held hers. "Your brief time with us has been eventful, Ruth. I would like to hear your explanation."

Her mouth went dry. "Y - y - you would?" she stammered.

His head inclined fractionally.

She cleared her throat and cut her eyes toward Milly, whose foot she could see tapping against the floor anxiously. "Well . . . I died," she began hesitantly. Eyes downcast, chewing on the inside of her cheek, she missed the amusement that twisted Michael's lips briefly. "And then I met Milly. And then . . ." she added slowly, "we went . . . below . . ." She paused for a few seconds. "And now we're here." The smile she attempted faded away when Michael simply stared back at her. "And there was other . . . stuff, too," she whispered.

Michael just looked at her, his fingers steepled, the index fingers pressed against his mouth.

"Milly . . . We went to the Reflecting Pool," she began again, "and we saw . . . well, I saw . . . You make me very nervous!" she blurted out suddenly. "Could you not look at me anymore?"

Michael's hands dropped to his desk. "Why are you nervous if I look at you?" he asked.

"Because!" she cried. "Because your eyes are all . . ." Her hands fluttered in front of her. "You know what we did, anyway," she said. "You know that I saw Tempe and Seeley in the Reflecting Pool and that I made Milly take me to meet Micah, and you know that we went through the doorway and that I spent the night with Tempe and warned her about Seeley and now she's mad at him and they yelled at each other." Ruth crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. "If you're going to kick me out," she muttered, "I wish you'd just go ahead and tell me and get it over with."

Milly shifted to the other side of her chair, leaning away from Ruth.

Michael's chin lifted as he stared down the length of his nose at the recalcitrant woman avoiding his gaze. "If your offense was so great as to require expulsion, Ruth" he spoke softly, "there would be no need for this conversation."

Ruth quailed in her seat when she met his eyes again. "I apologize for my tone . . . sir."

His eyes narrowed toward her companion. "Did Millicent not explain to you the possible repercussions of interference?" he asked.

"She did," Ruth nodded. "She warned me - she told me about . . ." she paused, worried that she was betraying a confidence. "She told me about her husband, about her sons and their grandfather."

Michael sat back in his chair. "Hmm." His gaze remained fixed on Milly. "Millicent."

Milly winced, her shoulders hunched. "Yes, sir?"

"Millicent."

She sighed heavily and raised her eyes. "Yes, sir."

"Did you forget to share the results of your last attempt to interfere in your son's life?"

"Well . . . sort of," she admitted.

His eyes were on her, unblinking.

"Maybe," she answered slowly.

He remained silent.

"I was going to mention it," she offered. Ruth looked from one to the other, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Michael's silence was as loud as a roar.

"That turned out okay, though, right? In the end?" Milly forced her lips into a smile. "It all worked out, really . . . mostly . . . don't you think?" When her words were met with nothing but his continued unresponsiveness she slumped in her chair. "That was totally not my fault!" she burst out suddenly. "How was I supposed to know she wouldn't marry him?" she entreated. "You can't blame that on me - he asked her!" she cried out. "He did! And I didn't even tell him to, he just asked! Because he wanted to!" She turned to Ruth for support. "What woman gets pregnant and then tells the man no, when he asks her to marry him? Huh? Who does that?" She looked back at Michael. "That was not my fault!"

"Who's pregnant?" Ruth asked, sure she'd missed something crucial.

"No one, not anymore," Milly shook her head. "The baby is -" she stopped and looked at Michael.

"He is three years old," he answered.

Milly's jaw dropped. "Three? Really? Aww," her eyes misted. "That's such a cute age. I should . . ." She abruptly stopped speaking when Michael's eyes narrowed on her. "Nothing," she gulped. "I should do nothing."

"Who's three?" Ruth looked at both of them in turn. "I don't understand."

Milly became very interested in plucking nonexistent fibers from the knee of her slacks. "My grandson," she answered, not meeting Ruth's gaze. "Seeley has a son."

"He has a kid?" Ruth's voice rose. "You don't think you should have mentioned that when I was getting all excited about him and Tempe?"

'I didn't think it was relevant at the time," Milly answered, glaring at Ruth.

"Not . . ." Ruth's eyes widened. "Oh, it's relevant," she nodded. "It's definitely relevant! This is my daughter we're talking about and if your son's already got one kid, how do I know -"

"Children are a blessing!" Milly snapped, pointing a finger at Ruth. "You leave him out of this!"

"Maybe if I'd known your son was already _blessed_ . . ."

A loud, heavy sigh silenced both of them immediately. They looked toward Michael and found him rubbing circles into his temples, eyes closed.

"Rules have been broken," he said finally. "There will be a price to pay." He opened his eyes, lifted his chin and spoke into the room. "Micah, I request your presence."

Milly and Ruth exchanged a worried glance before looking everywhere but at each other or Michael. A few seconds later the tall doors to the office opened and the Guardian Angel entered. His steps faltered for a moment when he saw Ruth and Milly sitting in front of Michael's desk before he shook his head and continued across the floor until he stood just behind their chairs.

"Sir," he nodded.

"Thank you, Micah," Michael greeted him. "I trust I have not taken you from any matter of importance."

Micah shook his head. "No, sir. My book club is meeting."

"Still?" Ruth asked involuntarily, shrinking into her seat when three heads turned toward her. "Never mind," she muttered. "Sorry."

"What is the book for this week, Micah?" Michael asked with interest.

"The Notebook," Micah answered, grimacing.

A ghost of a smile crossed Michael's expression. "How many of them are crying?" he asked, his eyes almost smiling.

Micah shook his head again. "All of 'em," he said, disgusted.

Michael cleared his throat before his expression turned serious. "You know Millicent," he began, nodding toward the women, "and I presume there is no need to introduce Ruth."

The Guardian snorted. "We've met," he said shortly, folding his arms over his chest.

"Millicent and Ruth have interfered with your charges," Michael explained. "Rules have been broken." That one eyebrow lifted as he looked at each of them in turn. "Again." The women stared at their knees. "I would like you to escort them to their temporary assignments, Micah, and then return to me so that you and I may discuss ways in which they might make amends for their actions."

"Ruth, you will serve in the children's area," he said. "I believe the toddlers are always in need of attention."

"Toddlers?" Ruth looked up, surprised.

"Children die," Michael answered softly. Her eyes slid away as she nodded sadly. "Take her to Sarah," he instructed Micah. "She will know where best to place her."

"Millicent, you will go to the Hall of Records. Leonardo has transcribed everything in mirror-text once more and it all needs to be recopied." Milly closed her eyes, not completely disguising the groan that escaped her. "That should keep you busy until I send for you."

He fell silent until both women looked up at him. "When I have decided upon a suitable punishment, we will meet again." He dismissed them with a nod to Micah. "Thank you, Micah. I will wait your return."

"Sir." Micah nodded respectfully and put a hand on each woman's shoulder. "Let's go."

When they reached the door, Ruth looked back. Michael stared after them, studying them, the fingers of one hand stroking his chin. She offered him a weak smile and received only a raised brow in response. Micah's hand on her back pushed her through the doors, after Milly.

"Just couldn't let it alone, could you," the Guardian said, as soon as the doors closed. "Just couldn't let it alone." He clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"Just couldn't let it alone."


	8. Michael's Decree

Micah rang the bell at the door of a wide, three story white building surrounded by a stone wall that stretched above even his own massive height. The woman who opened the door had left old age behind many years ago but despite the lined visage and the white hair lying over one shoulder in a long, thick braid, her eyes were kind and her expression gentle.

"Micah!" she exclaimed happily. "How wonderful of you to come by. The children will be thrilled. And Millicent," she added, drawing her into an embrace. "It is so good to see you again!"

"Sarah," he nodded respectfully. "We're not here to visit, unfortunately." He reached behind him and pulled Ruth forward. "This is Ruth. Michael asked me to bring her to you. He thought you might be able to use her help for a while."

The old woman looked at Ruth and then back at Micah with a roll of her eyes. "I see I must speak to Michael again about using the children as punishment," she tsked. "They are not punishment, they are simply children behaving as children behave." She reached for Ruth's hand. "Nonetheless, I am glad to have you here," she smiled. "Welcome."

Ruth smiled shyly and allowed herself to be guided inside. Micah and Millicent remained just outside the doorway. "You can't stay for even a bit?" Sarah asked, her expression disappointed when the Guardian shook his head.

"Not this time. I have to take Milly to the Hall of Records," he added, allowing himself the hint of a smirk.

Sarah laughed. "There were rumors Leonardo had found another way to get in," she said, chuckling anew at Milly's disgruntled look. "Now that qualifies as punishment." She patted the younger woman's arm. "Come back when you can, dear. The children do so enjoy your songs." She and Ruth watched for a moment as the other two walked away before Sarah closed the door. Ruth looked around as they crossed the brightly lit foyer, noting the hodgepodge of children's artwork hanging in random groupings on the walls. Before she could ask any questions, Sarah spoke again.

"What did you and Milly get up to that brought you to Michael's attention?" she asked, and then laughed again. "Never mind. Perhaps it is better if I don't know." Reaching a closed door set deep within a shadowed archway, she pulled it open and gestured for Ruth to precede her.

Ruth blinked in surprise as they stepped out into a large, colorful garden teeming with children of all ages, in all shapes and sizes and nationalities. They ran and played and laughed, some racing in circles around Ruth and Sarah in a game of tag while others sat in groups clustered around an adult or quietly reading to each other and still more played with toys or games. Ruth noted with surprise several more grownups moving among the children, calming arguments and soothing skinned elbows and knees.

"Were they sent here by Michael, too?" she asked Sarah curiously, pointing vaguely toward them.

The older woman snorted delicately. "Only Michael thinks of working with the children as punishment," she responded. "No, they are among those who choose to spend their time here." At Ruth's questioning look, she continued. "Some are mothers who died in childbirth, or men and women who were not gifted with children in life. They come here because they enjoy being with the little ones." Sarah watched the somewhat frenzied activity with a smile. "What about you, dear? Did you leave children behind?"

Ruth nodded, watching one little girl with a head full of dark braids walk on unsteady legs to the waiting arms of a blonde-haired woman who scooped her up with laughter and kisses and praise. "Yes," she answered. "I have a son and a daughter."

"How wonderful," Sarah responded with a smile. "I was blessed with only one, but he was precious to me." She let out a puff of air and clapped her hands together. "Well then, let's look around and find a good spot for you."

Ruth followed Sarah on her meandering path through the crowd of children and adults. She had a smile for everyone, often stopping to listen to an excited description of a new discovery or to pull a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe away a smudge of dirt from a messy face.

"I feel so sad for them," Ruth murmured, when they'd begun walking again.

"Why is that, dear?" Sarah asked curiously.

"Because they have to remain children forever," Ruth explained, looking around that wide range of disparate ages. "It's awful, in a way."

"Why would you think that?" Sarah laughed. "Of course they grow up. We would be overrun with children if none of them ever aged."

Ruth came to a halt in the middle of the path. "We age here?"

Sarah chuckled. "I have many times advised before that we should emphasize that point during orientation. You're not the first person who somehow missed hearing it." She tucked Ruth's hand in the crook of her own elbow, patting it gently as the two of them started walking again. "Yes, dear, we age. Nijal," she called to a young boy sitting on a low branch in a nearby tree. "No higher." He nodded and swung his legs happily. "To a point," she continued to Ruth. "We age until we reach the place we should be and that is where we stop. Or, some lose years after they arrive here. It is different for everyone." She waved at a young man teaching a little girl how to ride a bike. "So it is with the children. They grow at different stages, some remain in childhood for longer than others but they all leave us eventually." She bestowed a gentle smile on Ruth. "Even here, childhood doesn't last forever." An older man with a long white beard waved at them from where he sat surrounded by young teens. "Ah, Charles is lecturing today. It has been too long since he was here; I must tell him thank you. Do you mind, Ruth?" When Ruth shook her head, the women headed over.

" . . . slow process, progressing over centuries, the necessary evolutionary changes ensuring the survival of each species." The old man smiled as they approached the group. "That is all for today, children. We'll pick up there on my next visit. Sarah," he said warmly, standing up, his joints creaking with age.

She kissed his whiskered cheek. "Charles, how nice to have you back with us."

He harrumphed. "It takes longer and longer to visit all of the youth lodges, especially when new ones are always going up."

Sarah smiled in an easy, mocking sympathy. "How inconsiderate of those below, to continue dying."

"Huh," he grunted. He cast a brief glance at Ruth but otherwise ignored her as he gathered his papers. "Well, I'm off again." He inclined his head in respect. "I'll see you on my next turn."

"As always, we appreciate your willingness to share your expertise, Charles," Sarah said. "Thank you for coming." The old man ambled away, followed by a few of his students still peppering him with questions. The two women watched the group for a moment before Sarah turned once more to Ruth, considering her thoughtfully. "Now, where to put you . . ."

Ruth's eyes lingered on the teacher and his students. "You know," she shrugged somewhat self-consciously, "I'm good at math. Maybe . . ." Her voice trailed away hesitantly.

"Oh, but that's wonderful!" Sarah clapped her hands together. "We are always in need of teachers. Let's find a good location for you."

In no time at all, Ruth found herself sitting in the shade of a massive elm tree. Sarah looked on, beaming, as younger children began to gather spontaneously, seating themselves in a loose semi-circle and looking at Ruth expectantly. She paused for a moment, unsure of her next move. On a whim, she reached out for a notebook held by the girl sitting nearest to her and seeing the simple arithmetic problems written out there, began to speak.

Sarah watched for a few more minutes and then left Ruth confidently explaining multiplication tables and long division to her audience.

.

.

.

.

Ruth was unsure how many days passed before Micah came back. She enjoyed the time she spent surrounded by children eager to learn from her and when Sarah stopped her one morning with the news that Micah waited outside the door, she was disappointed.

"You are welcome to join us again," Sarah said, with a hug goodbye, "anytime you wish."

"Thank you," Ruth responded, inhaling the old woman's soft scent. "I will."

Micah stood patiently, Milly beside him flexing her hand gingerly. She frowned when Ruth raised her eyebrows curiously. "There was a lot to recopy," she grumbled.

Despite their questions, the Guardian refused to provide them any hint of what Michael had decided. "You'll know soon enough," was his only reply as he kept walking, leading them to the door of a small white cottage covered in climbing streams of ivy. From the outside it looked as if the entire structure would fit inside Michael's office with room to spare but when the door closed behind them, the same vast space stretched out between the three of them and his desk.

The Archangel stood when they entered, coming forward to meet them halfway. He looked from Ruth to Milly, his face expressionless.

"I require you to follow me. There is something I wish you to see." He turned sharply on one foot. Nervously, the women reached out to clasp hands again and obeyed without comment.

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The setting changed immediately. The'd left the office behind and stood outside, the four of them, Michael standing just in front and to the side and Micah just behind the two women. The surrounding community looked similar and yet . . . different, the colors not as vibrant, the lines not as sharp. Even the people were somewhat hazy, less substantial, Ruth decided after staring at a man and woman walking together in the distance, holding hands. Not quite solid, she thought and unlike the place she'd come to regard as home, where everyone wore whatever clothes they preferred to wear, the people here dressed in the same long robes in a blue so pale it appeared almost white. She glanced at Milly with the intention of whispering a question about where they might be.

Milly was looking around in wide-eyed wonder, her gaze moving quickly from one person to another, over the buildings and fountains and trees within their line of sight. Her eyes filled with tears.

"This is Before, isn't it?" she whispered, her tone reverent.

Michael inclined his head. "It is."

Ruth cast a curious glance over the area again. "I don't know what that means," she said, adopting the same whisper Milly had used.

From behind them, Micah cleared his throat softly. "This is Before. It's where those who are yet to be born wait."

Ruth inhaled sharply, understanding dawning. "They're souls."

Michael nodded. His eyes followed the couple who'd been holding hands as they walked. The two of them sat down together on a white bench tucked beneath the spreading branches of an ancient oak; her head rested against his shoulder as they talked, their voices too quiet for the words to travel. Looking toward them, he asked, "What do you see?"

Milly stared at the couple, her shoulders dropping. "I see two people in love."

"Yes."

A horrible thought occurred to Ruth. "Will they find each other, after they're born?" she asked slowly.

"Perhaps," Michael answered. "There are no guarantees. Some find love with another. Some spend eternity searching for the one left here. But occasionally," he added, his eyes snaring Ruth's, "those who love Before find each other below - and we rejoice with them."

Tears spilled over onto Milly's cheeks. "Seeley . . . and Temperance?"

Michael nodded silently.

Ruth tried to speak past the lump that lodged itself into her throat. "And we . . . that's what we messed up?" She hugged her arms closely to her chest.

"It is." He let the span of a heartbeat pass before pivoting smoothly. "Come." Miserably, not daring to look at the other, Ruth and Milly followed silently.

They were back in his office, sitting in the uncomfortable chairs, Michael seated once more behind his desk. Micah stood behind him, his immense stature looming over them.

"You will repair the damage you caused," he stated quietly.

The two women nodded in unison. "But how . . ." Milly began.

"That is the problem you must solve and you will need to work together." He nodded toward the Guardian. "Micah will provide guidance but not answers."

Ruth took a deep, shaky breath. "We'll figure it out. I know my daughter . . ."

"You will remain with Seeley," Michael interrupted her. "Millicent, you will go to Temperance."

"What?"

"No!"

"Why?"

"You have each focused on your own child for selfish reasons and in so doing have caused both pain and harm." His eyes narrowed as he looked down on them. "That is unacceptable. You will help your child best by serving the other."

Milly and Ruth looked at each other in shock.

"The gates will be closed to you until your task is complete," Michael added, a note of finality in his voice. "Micah, they are yours."


	9. The Visitor

They decided to meet once a week to discuss strategy and share any progress they might have made in the interim. Three weeks later their conversations were still all strategy - there was no progress.

Milly had chosen for their meetings a location she was familiar with, St. Patrick's Catholic Church. It wasn't far from the offices of either of their children and, as Ruth found out, it was the church Seeley visited most often. She frequently found herself studying the Rose Window above the choir loft or one of the other stained glass panels in the sanctuary while he went into confession or simply sat staring up at that window himself. Between his visits and her meetings with Milly, she became very familiar with the old church.

Just now she stood in the vestibule, waiting for Milly to arrive for their weekly appointment. Absently, she ran her toe over the marble shamrock embedded in the floor, looking up when she felt Milly's presence beside her.

"He's got a girlfriend," Ruth said by way of greeting.

Milly released a breath of air in a loud huff of irritation.

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_Two __weeks __later__ . . . . _

"She had a date last night."

"Who?"

"Peter . . . Paul . . . Mary . . . . I don't know. I don't like him."

"I don't either."

Milly laughed. "You could at least meet him first."

"I don't like him."

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_Another month passed._

"Can't you get her to answer the phone?"

"What am I supposed to do, put it in her hands?" Milly responded, letting her exasperation show. "You know, the problem is those little phones they carry around all the time. They show you who's calling before you answer! In my day . . ."

"Oh, God, not again," Ruth groaned, then they both flinched at the loud boom of thunder that shook the walls of the church. Milly slapped at her arm, shushing her. "Sorry!" Ruth called out, looking toward the ceiling. "Sorry," she repeated, with a sheepish glance at Milly. "I forgot."

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"I met your grandson this weekend."

"You did?" Milly returned Ruth's smile with a broad one of her own.

She nodded. "He looks like you."

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"He's moving in."

"What?"

"I've done everything I can short of putting on a sheet and finding some chains to rattle," Milly sat down heavily in the last pew. "All they do is check the windows for drafts."

Ruth took the seat in front of her and covered her face with her hands. "We're never going back."

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"He's lonely," Ruth said quietly.

"You got rid of the girlfriend?" Milly looked pleased.

Ruth shook her head. "No, not yet. But he's still lonely. I can tell," she added with a shrug of one shoulder. She met Milly's eyes. "He doesn't talk to her, not really. Mostly they just -" she paused and looked carefully around the interior of the church. "You know," she continued suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows. "A lot."

A faint blush warmed Milly's cheeks. "Hey!" she said, holding one hand palm up. "I don't need to hear about that."

"You think I like being there?" Ruth huffed. "I spend a lot of time in the front yard, trust me."

"Well, your daughter and whatshisname aren't much better -"

"STOP!" Ruth rushed to cover her ears.

The two women sat next to each other in identical poses, hands crossed over their chests, staring ahead in annoyance.

"There has to be a way to fix this," Ruth murmured finally.

"Has to be," Milly nodded.

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The next week, Milly did not come to the church for their usual meeting.

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The week that followed, Ruth waited until she felt the pull of her connection to Seeley tugging at her, forcing her to return to him. Once again, Milly was absent.

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A third week passed.

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By the time the hour of their meeting went by in the fourth week, Ruth was frantic with worry and consumed by indecision and confusion. She paced outside the church, the noisy cacophony from the heavy downtown traffic barely registering. Almost blindly, she followed the stone path that wound through the trees planted around the house of worship, barely noticing in time to step around a gardener bent over a pitiful little flower bed circling the base of one of the trees.

"Your daughter is unharmed."

The words froze her in place for a moment before she cast a sharp look around for the speaker. The only other person in the vicinity was the gardener . . . She watched with narrow, nervous eyes as he brushed the dirt from his hands and straightened to his full, intimidating height.

He was dressed in white, in loose linen pants and a short-sleeved shirt of similar construction left open at the neck to reveal a triangle of warm bronze skin. He grasped both of her hands within his as she stared up at him, transfixed. A mop of unruly, golden brown hair striped with strands bleached white from the sun emphasized the sun-kissed glow of his face, his eyes so brilliant a shade of blue the sky above looked dingy in comparison.

"I meant to join you inside," she heard him say, "but the garden drew my attention. Flowers should bloom." She followed the wave of his hand toward the bed now crowded with bright, colorful blossoms.

She nodded wordlessly, her eyes flying back to him. He cupped her hands between his again, patting the one on top. "There is a seat just around this corner. Let's sit outside for a moment, shall we, and enjoy the beautiful day we have been given." Releasing her, he led the way to a small wrought iron bench she hadn't noticed and with a gesture, indicated she should sit.

She did, still staring at him in bemusement.

"As I said, your daughter is unharmed," he repeated. "She is often asked to identify the dead and that is what she is doing now. Millicent was not given the opportunity to inform you, as Temperance was called away quickly. I believe she is in Peru," he mused. "Possibly Brazil. I admit that I was not following her activities as closely as I have at other times."

Ruth nodded slowly. "Peru?" she repeated, somewhat confused.

The laughter in his blue eyes took her breath away. "Possibly Brazil."

"Who are you?" she asked suddenly, her heart rising into her throat at the beauty of the man sitting next to her as a smile lifted one corner of his mouth and then spread across his face.

"I am Raphael," he responded, his head inclining fractionally toward her.

"Raphael," she repeated, the word escaping on a breath of air.

"I have taken an interest in your plight," he said, stretching his long legs out in front of him. "Michael . . ." A glint of humor shone through the glance he gave her. "Michael bears the greatest burden of us all," he said. "This causes him to sometimes . . . overlook . . . the small details." One eyebrow lifted. "Like the love of a mother for her child."

Ruth blinked rapidly as his words sunk in. She shook her head to clear away the fog that remained. "Are you saying you can tell us, me and Milly," she clarified, "how to fix what we broke?"

Her shoulders slumped in disappointment when he shook his head. "No. That I cannot do. But," he lifted her chin with one finger. "I will be watching." He held her eyes in his. "And providing what aid I am allowed."

"We don't know what to do," she admitted, her eyes welling.

He smiled down at her and her heart swelled large within her chest. "You will," he promised. "That much I can tell you." He reached for her hand and squeezed it. "Be at ease, Ruth. You will know what to do."

He stood up then and looked around the small garden. "It is lovely here, is it not?" He took one step away from her before turning back. "Temperance will be away for two more weeks, and then Millicent will rejoin you here." He bestowed one more blinding smile on her and then walked slowly down the path away from her, trailing his fingers in the shrubs that lined one side of the stone walkway. Where his fingers had been, a trail of tiny white flowers sprang up.

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><p><em>AN: I promise there is no character in this story named Donatello. In case you were wondering. But I make no promises about Michelangelo. :-)<br>_


	10. A Little Help

"If I ever get back home, I am never never never interfering again. Ever." Milly spoke vehemently as Ruth took a seat next to her on their first visit after Milly's return. "Never. I'm not even going to look in the Reflecting Pool. I can wait until my sons are dead to see them again." She glanced quickly at Ruth. "Not that I'm in a hurry for either of them to die, you understand."

Ruth bit back the smile that threatened to break free. "Of course not. How's Tempe?"

Milly snorted and slumped against the pew in the old sanctuary. "Oh, she's fine. She's peachy. She spent every day up to her ears in mud and dirt and old bones, why wouldn't she be?" She glared at Ruth. "If you ask me, she prefers dead people to the living and that's just weird. Was she like that as a little girl?"

"Well . . ."

"Because it's weird," Milly barreled on. "Weird. And if that wasn't enough to deal with, Micah spent the whole time he was there complaining and whining about how no one told him they were soul mates and now he can't keep them apart and how much he hates snakes and how much work they cause him." She grunted in frustration. "What have you and Seeley been doing all this time?"

Ruth shrugged off the question. "He's been working, and we went to a few baseball games . . . Micah was there? Why was Micah there?" she asked anxiously.

Milly's expression was that of an adult dealing with a small child. "Of course Micah was there," she spoke very slowly before crossing her arms with a huff. "I'm stuck in the jungle with bugs and men with guns and you're going to baseball games. Figures."

"If it helps, I really don't like baseball all that much," Ruth offered. "Men with guns? You said Tempe was okay!"

"She is, she's fine," Milly waved one hand. "I'm not even sure she needed Micah, to be honest. Even when the camp was raided . . ." She paused at Ruth's wide-eyed look of horror. "Never mind. Your daughter can take care of herself, trust me." She angled her body toward the other woman. "Something good did come out of that trip, though. I have a solution to our problem."

Still alarmed at Milly's casual mention of a raid, Ruth could only stare back, her mouth hanging open.

"What solution is that, Milly?" Milly asked herself, her tone mocking. "I'm so glad you asked, Ruth!" she answered back as she leaned in close. "We need a dead body," she said, holding her friend's gaze meaningfully.

That jolted Ruth out of her moment of stupor. "A dead body?" she repeated in surprise. "How do we get a dead body?" Her eyes widened and forgetting that no one could see them, she glanced around furtively as her voice dropped to a whisper. "Are you saying we should kill so-"

"What?" Milly sat up in shock. "No! Of course not! No!" She frowned, eying Ruth askance. "That's the first thing you think of? No!" She shook her head. "I'm starting to understand your daughter a little better. No," she said again. "We need Seeley to find someone who's been dead so long that no one can tell who it is except Tempe. And then," she concluded triumphantly, "she'll have to work with him!"

Ruth pursed her lips, considering. "That's not a bad idea. It could work."

"It's a great idea!" Milly insisted. "She really is a genius with skeletons, Ruth. I'm serious, all we have to do is find a body in bad enough shape and our problems are solved."

"Okay," Ruth agreed. "So . . . how do we find a body?"

Milly shrugged. "We'll just ask someone."

It was Ruth's turn to frown. "How are we supposed to do that? No one can see us."

Milly sighed dramatically. "We're not going to ask one of the living, silly. We're going to ask one of the dead who's still hanging around." She allowed herself a smirk at Ruth's blank expression. "You haven't noticed them, have you?" At the shake of Ruth's head, Milly closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I have to do everything. Okay," she opened her eyes, looked around and pointed to an old man standing in front of the bank of candles that took up one long side of the room. "See that man?"

Ruth nodded.

Milly sighed again. "No. Look at him. _Look_ at him."

Confused, Ruth studied him for a moment and then . . . "Oh. Oh!" It clicked. He was somehow less substantial, the lines of his body less sharp and, she noticed, if she really looked she could see through his form to the rows of candles behind him. He glanced at the two women and quickly looked away.

"We make them nervous," Milly said casually.

"Why?"

"Because we were there. Home," she added in explanation, "and now we're here. I think they're afraid we've come for them."

"Why are they still here?" Ruth frowned in the direction of the old man who now stared forlornly into the candle flames. "Why haven't they, you know, moved on?"

Milly shrugged. "Scared, maybe. Something left to do. Vengeance. Who knows? You'd have to ask one - but don't," she lowered her brows at Ruth. "We have more important questions for them, like where to find a skeleton so we can go home!"

"Are you sure that's even possible?"

"Finding bones? Sure," Milly nibbled on a fingernail. "Trust me, there are bodies buried all over this town. I mean," one shoulder lifted, "it's not New Jersey but still. There are plenty to go around. The problem is leading Seeley to one of them, and soon." She cast a disgruntled look at Ruth. "I heard her talking to her boss about going to Guatemala by the end of next month. We have to get them back together before then because I am _not_ going back to the jungle!"

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"On the bright side, at least you don't have to worry about packing anymore." Ruth smiled, hoping her attempt at humor would brighten Milly's foul mood. Despite both of their efforts, they'd been unable to find a skeleton that piqued Brennan's interest enough to prod her to accept one of Booth's occasional phone calls as he continued to try to reach her. They'd been led to bodies, some of which had lain undiscovered for a considerable time, but none of them had required the expertise of one Dr. Temperance Brennan and Milly's time had run out. She, and Brennan, were on a plane headed to Guatemala in three days.

"This is so unfair," she grumbled again. "It's going to be hot and dirty and . . ."

"It's not like you can feel the temperature . . ." Ruth held her hands as a shield in front of her and scooted back a few inches when Milly scorched her with a look. "Sorry, I was just trying to be helpful."

"Well, it didn't work," Milly snapped. She stood up abruptly. "If you really want to be helpful, find us a skeleton while I'm gone. That's the kind of help we need," she added before she turned away and stalked out of the sanctuary.

Ruth waved a feeble hand. "Bye! Give Tempe my love!" she called out before Milly turned the corner and disappeared. Left alone, she sighed and sagged against the hard wooden pew. "Sure thing, Milly. I'll just find us a skeleton."

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_Two__ months __later__ . . . _

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Unseen, Raphael stood at the edge of the small pond and watched as the weathered little boat puttered to a point near the center and drifted to a stop. A wiry little man stood up in the middle and hoisted a white plastic bucket, letting the contents splash into the murky water. He watched, a smile playing faintly across the tanned planes of his square-jawed face as the little man paused, the empty bucket falling with a clank back into the boat as he leaned over, staring into the depths. A burst of excited Spanish filtered across the water as he grabbed his companion and pointed down.

"Michael will be displeased at your interference," Gabriel said quietly. Raphael showed no sign of surprise at his sudden appearance.

"Michael has other concerns."

"Yet I am still displeased." The deep baritone voice came from Raphael's other side. "I set this task for Millicent and Ruth." The three of them watched in silence as the little boat made its way to the water's edge.

Raphael shrugged off the prospect of Michael's wrath. "This is as the wind under a dry leaf. Surely you do not begrudge them this tiny bit of assistance?"

"Their journey stretches far ahead of them," Gabriel pointed out.

Michael nodded. "So should it. The mothers have a lesson to learn."

"The mothers . . . or the children?" Raphael asked with a smile.

Amusement glinted in the black depths of Michael's eyes. "That which is hard won is the more appreciated." He slanted a hard look at the angel beside him. "Keep your interference to a minimum. Their path is set, allow them to walk it."

The boat bumped gently against the dock, the men chattering to each other as they looped the rope over the post to secure it in place.

"Despite her mischief I am fond of Millicent," Raphael replied, his tone even. "I would wish her son happy."

As the angels watched, the two workmen ran up the hillside, racing through the rows of small white headstones as they yelled for attention.

"So shall it be," Michael nodded. "Everything happens eventually."

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><p><em>.<em>

_._

_Everything happens eventually . . . _ like new chapters of this story! Hopefully, I'm back on track with new chapters. Wish me luck! :-) Thanks for your patience and for continuing to read.


	11. The Best Laid Plans

If she still had skin Milly would have jumped out of it when she chanced a glance beside her and saw Ruth sitting there, a broad smile splitting her face. As it was, she gasped loudly and jerked in surprise, one hand splayed across her chest. "You could warn a person!" she grumbled when Ruth laughed. "What are you . . . Hey!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide. "Seeley is here?" Ruth nodded, her eyes dancing. "You found us a body?"

"Not me," Ruth admitted. "But some landscapers found one in a pond. It's impossible to tell who it was so Seeley called Tempe again but he got her boss and found out she was flying back today. He's out there waiting for her to get off the plane. How was Guatemala?"

Milly glanced at the dark haired woman who had begun gathering her things together as the plane they were on taxied slowly to the gate. "Hot, dirty and then hotter and dirtier," she responded. "Does Seeley think all he has to do is walk up to Tempe and they'll shake hands and make up? It's not going to be that easy," she warned.

"No," Ruth's smile grew even wider. "We . . . well, he has a plan."

Milly stared back with narrowed eyes. "Strangely enough, I don't find that reassuring. Humour me - what is this 'plan'?"

"Oh, it's a terrific idea," Ruth enthused. "He's going to have her arrested and then swoop in and save her!" Milly's lips parted as her jaw went slack. "What?" Ruth asked when there was no further response. "It's a great plan!"

"No, it's not," Milly disagreed. Annoyed, she waited for the plane to come to a complete stop then grabbed Ruth's hand and stepped through the plane into the terminal. The two women found a quiet spot where they could watch the passengers disembark and line up to go through customs. "Tempe will hate that. She'll see right through it and get even more mad at him."

"I think I know my own daughter a little better than you do," Ruth sniffed. "She never breaks the rules and being arrested will frighten her. She'll be grateful to Seeley for rescuing her."

"You knew her fifteen years ago," Milly pointed out. "The woman she is now doesn't need anyone to _rescue_ her and she's not going to like him thinking he can manipulate her into behaving the way he wants her to."

"We'll see," Ruth answered haughtily. The two women maintained a somewhat uncomfortable silence as they watched Brennan make her way slowly through the line. Ruth nudged Milly when she noticed Booth standing in the shadow of an office door with a broad shouldered African-American man in a dark suit. He elbowed his companion, nodded toward Brennan with a few whispered words then stepped back into the office. Ruth tossed a triumphant glance at Milly. "Step one complete!"

"Whatever," Milly muttered. The two of them followed Brennan to the main concourse, pausing behind her when she stopped to look around. "I'm telling you . . . What in the world is Angela doing?" She gasped in shock at the young woman who'd just flashed the airline clerk. "I don't think the middle of the airport is the right place for that kind of thing!"

Ruth shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Well, you know, she's an artist. Look," she tapped Milly's arm. "Here comes that police officer." She glanced at Milly out of the corner of her eye. "Wait and see - this will work."

Milly harrumphed and said nothing as they watched the officer fall in behind Brennan. She noticed the small glance Brennan tossed over her shoulder when she realized she was being followed and smirked. When Brennan dropped her bag, turned on her heel and confronted the man, she folded her arms over her chest and waited. Seconds later, when he was laid out on the floor at Brennan's feet, Milly snorted.

"Yea, she looks terrified," she said dryly as Angela beat at the hapless man with her purse.

Ruth sputtered. "Well . . . she . . . that wasn't . . . ."

"I told you," Milly said. "I don't know what kind of girl she used to be but she doesn't scare now. I told you this wouldn't work." The two women trailed behind automatically as Brennan was escorted to a small conference room.

"Does she have to leave that thing out?" Ruth looked on with distaste as her daughter lifted a dirty, stained skull from her bag and displayed it on the table in front of her. "It's disgusting."

Milly laughed without humour. "You haven't seen disgusting, trust me."

"_What__ is __this __about__?" __Brennan __asked __irritably__. "__I__'__ve __been __out __of __the __country__ for __two __months__ and __I__'__d __really __like __to __go __home __and __get __some __sleep__."_

"_If __you __cooperate__ with __us__, __you__'__ll __be__ released __that __much __sooner__," __the __agent __responded__, __his __tone __just __as __sharp__. __He __remained __standing__, __looming __over __her __threateningly__._

_Brennan__ heaved__ a __sigh__ and __managed __to __bite __back __her __first __choice __of __words__. "__I__ am __Dr__. __Temperance __Brennan__," __she __said__, __keeping __her __tone __as __even __as __possible__. "__I__'__ve__ been__ in __Guatemala__ for__ two__ months__ identifying__ victims__ of__ genocide__." __She__ gestured__ casually__ to__ the__ skull__. "__Including__ him__."_

"Genocide?" Ruth asked, her voice soft. "I thought you were on an archeology dig."

"No." Milly would have left it at that but for Ruth's steady gaze. "You don't want to know, Ruth."

" _. . . __they__ sweat__ it__."_

_Brennan__ scoffed__. "__Guatemala__? __Genocide__? __How __are __you __scary __after __that__?"_

"Told you."

"Shut up."

_He__ smirked__. "__You__ know __who__ doesn__'__t__ sweat__ it__?"_

_The __female __officer __in __the __room__ cut __in__. "__Sociopaths__."_

"Hey!" Ruth exclaimed. "Tempe is not a sociopath!"

_Brennan__ sat __up__, __insulted__. "__I__ am __not __a __sociopath__," __she __said __definitively__. "__I__'__m __an __anthropologist __at __the __Jeffersonian__."_

"_Who __works __for __the __FBI__," __he__ scoffed__. "__Which __I__'__d __maybe __believe __if __you__ had__ an __ID__ that __did __more __than __allow __you __access __to __the __cafeteria__." __He__ rested__ both__ hands __on__ the__ table__ and__ leaned__ over __her__, __shooting__ a__ quick__ glance__ over__ her__ shoulder__ as__ Booth__ entered__ the __room__. "__You__ were__ illegally__ transporting__ human__ remains__, __ma__'__am__ . . . " _

"See?" Ruth looked triumphantly at Milly. "Seeley's here. He can smooth over the trouble she thinks she's in and he'll be able to ask her about the body and then they'll be working together and then . . ."

"She doesn't look like she's worried about being in any trouble," Milly pointed out. "She just looks irritated."

"_. . . __next __time__ you __should __identify __yourself __before __attacking __me__," __she __said__ before __turning __to__ look __sharply __over __her __shoulder__. "__What__ are __you __doing __here__?"_

"Oh, yea. She's really happy to see him," Milly drawled.

"Can you wait a minute to see what happens before you give up?" Ruth huffed. "Geez."

_Booth__ hooked __his__ badge__ back__ on__ his__ belt__ after__ identifying__ himself__. "__Bones__ identifies__ bodies__ for__ us__."_

"_Don__'__t__ call __me__ '__Bones__'," __Brennan __ordered__. "__And __I __do __more __than __identify__," __she __clarified__, __looking __back __at __the __agent__. _

"_She __also __writes __books__," __Booth__ added __somewhat __flippantly__, __pushing __one__ across __the __table__. __She __watched __it __slide __past__, __staring __at __her __own __upside__-__down__ photo __when __it __came__ to __a __stop __in __front __of __the __agent__. __He __picked__ it __up__, __turning __it __over__ to __read __her __name __on__ the __cover__. _

"_Fine__," __he__ shrugged__, __looking__ up__ at__ Booth__ and__ allowing__ a__ small__ grin__ to__ escape__. "__She__'__s__ all__ yours__."_

"See?" Ruth elbowed Milly. "Problem solved."

_Brennan__ stood __up __abruptly__. "__What__?" __she__ asked__, __outraged__. "__That__'__s __it__? '__She__'__s __all __yours__?' __Why__ did __you __stop __me__?"  
><em>

"See?" Milly taunted. "Problem not solved!"

_Booth__ grabbed__ her__ bags__. " . . . __matter__? __You__'__re__ free__ to__ go__, __let__'__s__ just__ grab__ your__ bags__ - __click__ click__, __cling __cling__ . . . _

"_You__ set __me__ up__," __she __accused__, __glaring __at __him__. __When __he __avoided __her __gaze__, __she __shot __daggers __at __the __agent__. "__You__ got __a __hold __for__ questioning__ request __from__ the __FBI__, __didn__'__t __you__?"_

"Aaaand, problem made worse," Milly added, folding her arms across her chest.

_The __agent__ looked__ from__ Booth__ to__ Brennan__ and __smiled__ as__ he__ passed__ the__ book__ to__ her__. "__I__ love__ this__ book__." _

_She__ took__ it __from__ his __hand__, __snatched__ the __skull __from__ the __table __and __stalked__ toward __the __door__. "__Come __on__," __she __huffed __as __she __passed__ Booth__. _

Ruth smirked. "Problem solved."

_Once__ in__ the__ hallway__, __Brennan__ rounded __on__ Booth__ and __grabbed__ for__ her__ bags__. __He__ held__ on__ even__ as__ she__ tried__ to__ tug__ them__ free__.  
><em>

"_Give__ me__ my __bags__," __she __said __testily__. "__If __you__'__re __finished __with __your __childish__ games __I __would __like__ to __find __Angela __and __go __home__."_

"_She__'__s__ gone__," __Booth__ answered__. "__I__ told__ her__ I__'__d__ give__ you__ a__ ride__," __he__ added__, __his__ smile __wide__. _

_Her __mouth __fell __open__. "__She__'__s__ gone__? __You__ . . ." __She __let __out __a__ noise__ of __frustration__. "__Fine__. __Give __me __my __bags __and __I__'__ll __find __a __taxi__." _

"_Aw__, __come__ on__, __Bones__ . . ." __he__ began__._

_She__ stepped__ forward__ into __his __space __and __pointed __at __him__. "__Don__'__t __call __me__ '__Bones__'," __she __bit __out __angrily__. __He__ backed __up__ one __step__, __shrugging __in __confusion__. _

"_Why __not__? __It__'__s__ just__ a__ nickname__ . . ."_

"_Yes__, __it__'__s __a __nickname__," __she__ agreed__, __her __tone __hostile__, "__and__ as __such __it __implies __an__ intimacy __which __I__ do __not __grant __you__. __My __name__ is __Dr__. __Temperance__ Brennan__," __she __said __with __a __glare__. "__You __may__ call __me__ Dr__. __Brennan__." _

"_Now__ who__'__s __being __childish__?" __he__ laughed__, __unfazed__ by __her __anger__. __He__ lifted__ the __bags __he __held__. "__I__'__ve __got __your __bags__, __my__ vehicle __is __right __outside__, __let __me __take __you __home__."_

_He__ watched __her__ face__ as __she__ argued__ with__ herself__ for__ a__ long __minute__ before__ giving__ in__. "__Fine__," __she__ said__ as__ she__ walked__ away__, __her__ long__ strides__ taking__ her __several__ feet__ away__ before__ his__ voice__ stopped__ her__.  
><em>

"_Uh__ . . . __Bones__?" __She __spun __on__ her __heel __and __glared__. "__My__ car __is __this __way__." __With __a __nod__, __he __indicated__ the __opposite__ direction__. __Lips __pursed__, __she__ strode __past __him__, __ignoring__ his __lighthearted__ whistle__ as __he__ followed__ behind__. _

Speechless, Milly and Ruth watched them disappear down the hallway in silence. Finally, Ruth chanced a glance at Milly and coughed lightly.

"Well," she said. "That went well."


	12. Sparks

_AN: This chapter is dedicated to Penandra, both because it's her birthday today and because she acts as my conscience when the delay between chapters gets too long. It's not that I forget about the next chapter it's just that she's really good at gently prodding me to get on with it. :-) Happy Birthday, Penny!_

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* * *

><p>.<p>

"Aaaarrrgghhhh!" Milly growled in frustration. "You know, if they would just stop arguing for ten minutes they might remember that they actually like each other!" She and Ruth had followed their children out to Booth's SUV and were now seated behind them listening as the bickering that had begun at the airport continued. Suddenly, Booth swerved to the curb, barely managing to come to a complete stop before his irate passenger pushed open her door and stomped away. With a loud huff, Milly slumped back against the seat and closed her eyes.

Ruth tried to peer through the back window. "Should we follow them, you think?"

"No," Milly responded, rubbing her temples. "They'll be back. Seeley left his keys in the ignition. She's just making a point."

"Tempe doesn't really do things to make a point," Ruth disagreed, watching as the discussion continued on the sidewalk.

Milly snorted. "Oh yes, she does. She-"

"Oh!" Ruth exclaimed. "They're coming back."

"Told you."

Agreeing to accompany him was apparently as far as Brennan was willing to go, as evidenced by her silence for the remainder of the drive. Booth shot occasional glances in her direction and more than once opened his mouth as if to speak but in the end he, too, remained silent.

"I wish someone would say something," Ruth muttered, looking anxiously from one to the other.

Milly shrugged and yawned. "At least they're not fighting. Baby steps."

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Like ducks in a row the four of them walked through the rows of small marble tombstones rising from the thick green grass. Ruth and Milly stood in silent vigil as Booth and Brennan puttered to the center of the lake. They couldn't hear the conversation in the boat but they didn't need to - Brennan's body language was enough.

"Looks like we'll be here for a while," Ruth said, keeping her voice low as if worried there was a chance they might be overheard. "Come on, there's someone I want you to meet." She turned away from the pond.

"You met someone in a graveyard?" Milly asked? But she smiled as she spoke and Ruth did not take offense.

"Remember when you told me I needed to learn to really look around?" Ruth responded. "Well, I've gotten pretty good at it." She led the way along the top of the hill, always keeping the water in view as more vehicles pulled up along the small service road. She stopped beside a well-tended grouping of small markers resting in the shade of a large tree. The soldier sitting on one stone stood as they approached.

"Miss Ruth," he said, removing his cap respectfully. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

"Milly, this is Captain Fletcher Campbell," she introduced them. "Milly Booth. That's her son," she nodded over her shoulder, "the man I was with this morning? The woman down there is my daughter."

Captain Campbell inclined his head to Milly. "It's nice to meet you, ma'am. We all think very highly of the sergeant."

Milly's brow furrowed. "You know my son?"

"He has friends buried here," the captain nodded. "We've seen him visit."

"That's how you know he was in the Army?"

He smiled. "Soldiers recognize each other, ma'am."

"Oh." Milly looked from her son to the captain, unsure how to respond.

"Milly is the one I was telling you about, Captain Campbell," Ruth took that moment to interrupt. "She's been there much longer than I have so she's the better person to answer your questions."

Milly was still lost. "I've been where? What questions?"

"About where we came from," Ruth explained. "Home. Captain Campbell has been here since 1918," she explained. "I was telling him how nice it is at home and since no one comes to see him anymore . . . Oh!" Her hand flew up to cover her mouth. "I'm sorry, that was thoughtless of me."

"No, ma'am, it was just the truth." The captain looked out over the water, his posture ramrod straight. "My Eadie used to come every year, sometimes more than once, but she's been gone a long time." He was silent for a moment, then he slipped his cap in place and turned back to them. "Maybe it's time I moved on, too."

Ruth took his hand and smiled gently. "It's a wonderful place. I'm sure Eadie is there waiting for you."

Captain Campbell's eyes lifted to a point over her shoulder. "Word got around that you were here earlier, Miss Ruth. Some of the others have questions, too - if you don't mind talking to them."

Picking their way through the manicured grounds, more than a dozen soldiers approached. Ranging in age from a young boy barely into his teens to an old man whose silver hair glinted in the sunlight, they wore the uniforms they'd been buried in. In some cases that meant chests covered in multicolored medals and ribbons and in others, it meant the clothes they'd managed to cobble together on the day they'd joined their brothers and fathers and marched off to war.

Ruth watched them in silence, her expression inscrutable. "No, we don't mind," she said finally, her voice soft. "Do we, Milly?"

Milly looked back at the men pulling on diving suits and preparing to bring up the remains from the now murky waters of the pond as Brennan and Booth stood by watching. "Not at all," she answered, turning to meet the arrivals with a smile. "Not at all."

Hours passed and night fell and still the two women sat among the dead of Arlington, Milly patiently answering their questions as best she was able while yards away, their living children worked with what was left of someone more recently deceased. Finally Ruth noticed the various jumpsuit-ed workers begin to wrap the remains for transport and reluctantly interrupted the questions.

"We have to go with them," she explained, pointing toward the pond.

Captain Campbell rose and again doffed his hat. "I think I'm ready, Miss Ruth," he said. "To move on, I mean." Some of the soldiers drifted slowly back to their graves but a few others crept closer, indicating their desire to do the same. "What do we do?"

Ruth hesitated and cast a glance at Milly who only shrugged and shook her head. And then somehow, she knew. "Walk toward the sun, Captain," she smiled.

He looked around the darkness that had fallen and stated the obvious. "It's already gone down, ma'am."

She smiled and turned her face to the west. "The answer is in the sun, Captain Campbell."

He followed her gaze before donning his hat again. "Thank you, Miss Ruth," he whispered roughly. "Ma'am," he added to Milly, nodding as he passed. The others followed behind him, each of them dipping their heads respectfully as they walked by. Milly and Ruth watched their progress until, in the blink of an eye, they were gone.

"What was that all about?" Milly asked when they were alone again.

Ruth shrugged self-consciously. "I just . . . Max and I were not very nice people, for a long time." She shot a brief glance at Milly. "Being around your son, seeing what Tempe does . . . It feels like I have a chance to make up for that, at least a little."

"How did you know what to tell them?" Milly's head tilted curiously.

Ruth shrugged. "I don't know. I just did."

Milly looked at her strangely. "Okay. Well since you just know stuff now, maybe I'll let you figure out how to get our kids back together - then we can go home, too," she added, jerking her head toward the spot where the soldiers had disappeared.

"Yea," Ruth sighed. "Back to work."

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"Anything new on your end?" Milly asked, her eyes on her son as he stared at the rather macabre painting on Angela's wall.

"No." Ruth's shoulders slumped. "He hasn't said anything to her that's not related to those bones. Although," her expression brightened, "he did tell his boss she was amazing."

"Well, it's a start," Milly muttered, watching Booth wiggle his fingers through the holographic image Angela had created.

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Ruth jumped up from the edge of the desk where she was sitting idly swinging her legs when Milly and Brennan stepped into Cullen's office. "What are you doing?" she hissed. "Why did you let her beat up that congressman?"

"He's a Senator and besides, I didn't _let_ her she just . . . Never mind." Milly leaned wearily against the door. "It wasn't even him she laid out! It was that little-" She hastily bit off the word she almost used.

"It doesn't matter who it was," Ruth huffed. "He's threatening to take Seeley off the case!"

Milly closed her eyes. "Of course he is. What other kind of luck do we have?"

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"This isn't so bad," Ruth attempted to be positive as she and Milly watched everyone gather around Angela's holographic table for another demonstration.

Milly harrumphed.

"No, really," Ruth insisted. "They're still working together, right? They did a good job at that guy's apartment, right? And Seeley asked her if she wanted to stop for coffee when they left."

"Which she refused," Milly pointed out.

"Well, yea . . . but he asked. They're working together so-"

"Ruth, who cares if they're working together!" Milly paced around the group watching the reenactment of the dead girl's final struggle. "We're not here so they can work together. We got sent here because they're soul mates! And they were lucky enough to meet and feel that connection. Remember that spark between them? We saw it!" She glared at Ruth in accusation. "And then you killed it."

"I didn't kill anything, I just-"

"Whatever." Milly studied Brennan, then Booth. "We have to get them past just working together. We don't want . . . " She floundered a moment. " . . . Batman and Robin. We need Superman and Lois Lane."

"Can Tempe be Superman?" Ruth grinned cheekily.

Milly was not in the mood to be humored. "Really? This is funny to you?"

"I"m kidding! I'm kidding!" Ruth rushed to placate her. "I'm just kidding. I was trying to lighten things up, that's all."

Milly's shoulders slumped. "It took us a year just to get them in the same room with each other, Ruth. We need something to create that spark again or we'll be here forever. We need something that . . . Wait, where is she going?" They watched in disbelief as Brennan glared angrily at Booth and marched from the room, followed by Zach and Hodgins. "What's happened now?"

Ruth took an involuntary step after her daughter and then paused. "Do you mind if I follow her? Since we're both here?"

"No, go ahead," Milly waved. "Maybe I can find something to hit Seeley with that he can feel."

"_Wow__." __Booth__ casually __tossed __his __red__ die __in __the __air __and __watched__ the __three __of __them__ file __out__. "__Touchy__."_

_Angela__ busied __herself __turning __up __the __lights __and __returning __the __laptop __to__ her__ desk__ while __she __decided __how best __to __respond__. "__You __must __know __about __her __family__." __She __glanced __at __Booth__. "__Both __parents __vanished__ when __she __was__ fifteen__? __Probably __counts __as __the __real __world__."_

"_Yeah__," __he __stuck __his __hands __in __his __pockets __and__ stared __at __the __wall __of__ shadowed__ bones__. "__I __know__ the __story__. __Read__ the __file__. __Cops __never__ found__ out __anything__."_

_Angela __caught__ and __held __his __gaze__. "__Yeah__. __Brennan__ figures __that __maybe __if __somebody__ like __her __had__ been __there__…"_

_He __scoffed__. "__For__ someone__ who __hates __psychology__, __she __sure __has __a __lot __of __it__." __Angela __shook __her __head __and__ turned __away__. "__What__?"_

"_It__'__s__ not __my__ place __to __tell __Brennan__'__s __story__," __she __said__, "__but __there__'__s __a__ lot __you__ don__'__t __know__ about__ her__ so __cut __her __some__ slack__." __She __took __a __deep __breath__. "__Trust __me__, __there__'__s __not __much __about __the__ '__real __world__' __she __doesn__'__t __know__." __Milly __waited __along__ with __Booth__ for __Angela __to__ continue__ but__ she __remained__ silent__, __ignoring __him__ as __she __moved __around__ her __office __until__, __scowling__, __Booth__ strode __out__, __Milly __trailing __in __his __wake__. _

He paused for a moment on the walkway that stretched over the platform below, his eyes on Brennan as she bent over the bones again. Milly watched him watching her and tried without success to read his expression. When he headed downstairs she stayed put, taking the opportunity to study both of them.

Scant seconds later an imperceptible whisper in the air around her betrayed his presence. She blinked, acknowledging his arrival without looking at him. "This is going to be a lot harder than I thought it would be," she murmured quietly.

"It was not meant to be an easy task."

Below them, Hodgins passed a file to Booth. He flipped through the first few pages, listening to Hodgins speak for a few minutes before he tossed it back to the curly haired scientist. "Speak English," he said, his curt tone clearly reaching the walkway.

Brennan also heard him. She snatched the folder from Hodgins and pushed it back into Booth's chest but whatever she said was spoken too softly for Milly to hear. Unseen by anyone below, Ruth watched anxiously, stepping between them when Brennan moved back.

"What happened to Tempe after Ruth and her husband left?" Milly asked. When her question was answered with silence she turned to face him.

Raphael looked back at her, his expression inscrutable. After a long moment, he said simply "She was alone."

Milly's gaze flicked back to the platform. "Ruth thinks her son stayed with Tempe."

"He made other choices."

She sighed. "It's going to kill her when she finds out. Well, it would if, you know," she laughed self-deprecatingly, "she wasn't already dead." She looked up and found her gaze held by the humor sparkling in his eyes. Flustered, she turned away quickly. "You know what she's doing now, right? Ruth?" she gestured toward the platform. "She thinks she's the Pied Piper of lost souls or something."

His soft chuckle reached her. "It will amuse you, I think, to hear that even Michael did not foresee that turn of events."

"Really?" Shock had her meeting his eyes again. He inclined his head. "Wish I could have seen that," she muttered beneath her breath.

His lips quirked. "It was a momentous occasion," he allowed. "We are grateful, nonetheless, to welcome them home."

Milly hesitated for a moment. "Is it true?" she faltered. "Can we . . . can we make up for the things we did wrong? Is there still time?" She focused on the platform, trying without success to pretend the question had been a casual one.

"Millicent." The deep timbre of his voice drew her eyes unwillingly to his. The brilliant blue darkened to indigo. "There is no need to make amends for actions which were not yours."

" . . . give me something I can use!" Before she could respond, the discussion going on below escalated into a full blown argument.

"We have!" Brennan bit out. "Do you want me to tie a pretty bow around it, too?" Before Booth could respond, the phone in his pocket began to chirp.

"Booth," he bit out, giving her one last glare before walking away.

"Look at them, Raf," Milly said, her voice almost defeated. "Whatever it was we messed up, I think it's lost now." She hugged her arms close. "They don't even like each other - all they've done since we got them together again is fight."

"Ah, but are they fighting each other or themselves?" He leaned over and spoke so close to her ear she could almost feel his breath in her hair. "That is the question which must be answered, Milly."

She turned sharply but he was already gone.

Below Ruth waved to catch her attention, pointed toward Seeley as he walked through the glass doors and waved again in farewell. Distracted, Milly lifted a hand in reply.

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Ruth watched with keen interest as Booth sat at his desk staring at the file in his hands. It was obvious from the frozen expression in his eyes that he wasn't reading anything on the page open to him. Finally, he tossed it away in disgust and reached for his desk phone.

"It's Booth," he said shortly when the call was answered on the other end. "I need to talk to Bones . . . Well then, where is she? . . . Listen you little . . Look, if Bones and I are going to work together she has to be accessible in case I need to discuss something with her . . . no, I'm not going to tell you instead . . . Just . . . .where is she? . . . Is that what she said, blow off steam? . . . Fine, I know where she is." He slammed the phone back on its receiver.

Ruth hurried to keep up with him as he took the stairs two at a time down into the bowels of the Hoover building. At the end of a long, dingy hallway a guard manned a security station in front of a thick steel door.

Booth slid his badge through the narrow slot in the plexiglass. "Hey, Paulie."

"Agent Booth," the guard nodded, entering Booth's name and badge number on his computer. "Getting your range time in early this month?"

"Yea, something like that," Booth agreed, returning his badge to his belt. "Have you seen Dr. Brennan by any chance?"

"Yea," the guard nodded, pressing the button that had the door swinging open. "She's been here about twenty minutes. Lane 5!" he called out as Booth disappeared inside.

Ignoring the racks of safety glasses and ear protectors, he walked quickly behind the lanes until he found her. He perched on the metal railing nearby and watched as her shots pierced the heart of the paper target.

Milly looked up in surprise when she saw the two of them. "What are you doing here?"

Ruth shrugged. "No idea. He's been festering since we left you guys earlier, though. I think something's bothering him."

"Huh." They stepped back out of the way and waited.

_The__ echo __of __Brennan__'__s__ last __shot still hung in the air__ when __Booth __spoke__. "__Thought__ I__'__d __find__ you__ here__." __Surprised__, __she __removed __her __earphones __and __turned __in __his __direction__. "__You__ know__, __you __being __a __good __shot __and __doing __martial __arts__, __it__'__s __all __your __way__ of __dealing__." __He__ approached__ steadily__. "__Who __knows__ better__ than __you __how__ fragile __life __can__ be__?"_

_Annoyed__, __Brennan__ dropped__ her __goggles__ to the counter with __a __clatter__. "__Maybe __an __Army __Ranger __sniper __who__ became __an __FBI__ homicide __investigator__," __she __retorted __pointedly__._

_Instead__ of __being__ upset__, __Booth __looked __smug__. "__Ah__, __you __looked__ me __up__, __huh__?" __He __invaded __her __practice __lane__, __his __wide __shoulders __dominating __the __narrow__ space __as __he __nudged__ her__ out __of __the __way__. "__Do __you __mind__?" __he__ asked__; without waiting for an answer, he __reached __for __her __pistol__. _

"I'm not sure I like the idea of both of them being armed at the same time," Milly muttered. "Not the way they fight."

_Brennan __pushed __the__ gun__ closer __to __him__. "__Be __my __guest__."_

"_Thank__ you__." __Aiming __carefully__, __Booth __fired __at __the__ bright __red __target__._

"No worries," Ruth said dryly. "Looks like he's a lousy shot."

_Brennan __apparently thought the s__ame __thing__. "__Were __you __any __good __at __being __a __sniper__?" __she __chuckled__. _

_He __smirked __but __left __her __question__ unanswered__. __Instead __he __engaged__ the __pistol__'__s __safety and left it __lying __on__ the__ counter__ when he __turned__ to __face __her__. "__A__ sniper __gets __to __know__ a __little __something __about __killers__. __Senator __Bethlehem__, __he__'__s __no __killer__."_

_Brennan __stared __back __confidently__. "__Oh __and __Oliver __Laurier __is__." __Her __tone__ was __scornful__. _

_Booth __leaned __in __until __she __was__ forced__ to __back __up __against __the __lane__ divider__. "__The__ way __I__ read __Laurier__, __he__'__s __unhinged__." __His__ voice __dropped __to __a __smokey __rasp__. "__That __makes __him __dangerous__."_

_Brennan__ smirked__, __standing __her __ground __even __as __his __physical __presence __surrounded __her__. "__That __would __be __your __gut __telling __you__ that__, __correct__?" __she __sneered__._

Milly and Ruth exchanged the same wide-eyed glance. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Ruth asked, keeping her voice soft.

"I hope so," Milly whispered back, her attention rapt. "Oh, I hope so."

_His __eyes __holding __hers __intently__, __Booth __pressed __in __closer__. "__You __know __homicides__? __They__'__re__ not __solved __by __scientists__," __he __told __her__. "__They__'__re __solved __by __guys__ like __me __asking __a __thousand__ questions __a __thousand __times__, __catching __people __telling __lies __every __time__." __Brennan__ refused __to __look __away __even __when__ he __lifted__ one__ hand__ to __the __wall __beside __her __cheek__, __trapping __her __within __the __framework__ of __his __body__. "__You__'__re __great __at __what __you __do__, __Bones__," __he __admitted__, "__but __you __don__'__t__ solve __murders__." __His __eyes __bored__ into __hers__ "__Cops __do__."_

"Milly?" Ruth practically bounced on her toes..

"Shhhh!"

_Brennan__'__s__ chin__ lifted d__efiantly __and __then __it __was she who leaned __in__ closer __to __him __until __their __faces __were __separated __by __only __a __fraction __of __an __inch__. "__Cleo __Eller __was __killed __on __a__ cement __floor __sprinkled __with __diatomaceous __earth__," __she __said__, __her __tone __low __and__ even__ and__ pitched just__ loud __enough __for __him __to __hear__. "__Traces__ of__ her __blood __will __still __be __in __that __cement__. __One __of __us __is __wrong__," __she __allowed __as __the __heat __that __surrounded__ them __rose __with __the __touch __of __Booth__'__s __gaze __on__ her __lips__. "__Maybe __both __of __us__. __But __if __Bethlehem__ wasn__'__t __a__ Senator__," __she __accused__, "__you__'__d __be __right __there __in __his __basement __looking __for __that __killing __floor__. __You__'__re __afraid __of __him__." __His __head__ jerked__ minutely __and__ she__ knew__ her __goading__ had __struck a __nerve__. "__Your __hypothesis __is __that __squints __don__'__t __solve __murders __and __cops__ do__." __She __let __her __head__ rest__ against__ the __divider__, __her __eyes __hooded__ as __she __stared__ at __him__. "__Prove__ it__." __Her __voice __was __a __husky __purr__. "__Be __a __cop__." __A__ triumphant__ smirk __in __place__, __she__ slipped __past __him__._

"I think we found our spark, Milly!" Ruth crowed, a broad smile lighting her face.

"Oh yea," Milly cheered. "That's what I'm talking about, baby!" She and Ruth exchanged a high five. "We'll be home by Christmas!"

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><p><em>Home by Christmas? Ummmm, someone else is going to have to break the bad news to them - Milly kind of scares me. <em>

_(There will not be a chapter for every episode but in case anyone wants to follow along with the episodes that are used, I'll be giving you that information from now on. This one, obviously, is still the Pilot.)_


	13. Secrets

"We are never going home." The two mothers sat on the edge of an overhead baggage compartment, their feet dangling over the seats occupied by their children. Milly's tone was bitter with resignation.

"Michael can't make us stay here forever, can he?" Ruth worried at her lower lip.

Milly shrugged. "No. Eventually Tempe and Seeley will get old and when they die alone and unloved, I'm sure we'll be welcomed back with open arms."

Ruth gave her a side-eyed glance.

"Okay, so that was a little melodramatic," Milly allowed.

"You think?"

She snorted faintly before, giving into temptation, she nudged her dozing son's head with the toe of one foot. Without waking, Booth absently scratched at the spot.

"Stop that," Ruth ordered. "He's tired. The bed in that fleabag hotel he had to stay in was about a foot too short for him. He's barely slept at all the past few days."

"He should have moved to Tempe's hotel. It was very nice." Milly arched an eyebrow meaningfully. "And they would have been together."

This time it was Ruth who snorted. "Yea, we heard about the terrace." She shook her head and sighed. "What a wasted opportunity. Just the two of them . . . in the mountains . . . all alone . . ."

"With a cannibal," Milly pointed out.

"Well, yea, there was that," Ruth allowed grudgingly. "I think we're making progress though, don't you? He was definitely jealous of all the attention Tempe was getting. I still think she should have told him she was having breakfast with Charlie when he tried to reach her yesterday morning."

"She's very private," Milly disagreed. "Besides, after the way Little Miss Black Bra paraded herself all over Seeley's house, he has no business being jealous of anything." She glared down at her son.

"I did warn you when you two just showed up at his place. If I'd known you were coming . . ." Ruth sniffed and ignored the irritation in the look Milly shot her.

"'_Seeley__'__s __girlfriend __is __in __there__' _ is not the same thing as _'__Seeley__'__s__ girlfriend __is __half__-__naked__, __don__'__t __let __Tempe __go __in__,'_" she shot back. "Honestly, what was that woman thinking, walking around undressed like that?"

"I'm not a mind reader," Ruth answered, "but if I had to guess, I'd say it was probably because of the "Bones this" and "Bones that" she hears all the time. She was probably just marking her territory," she added with a shrug.

"Well, it was ridiculous," Milly insisted. "I don't know what's wrong with people today. Kids filming themselves having sex. Women wandering around barely dressed. In my day-" Ruth laughed, interrupting her. "What?"

Amusement lit her eyes. "I wish you could hear yourself." She leaned over and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. "I lived through the 60s, too, Milly."

Milly had the grace to look abashed for a moment. "Point taken," she mumbled.

The captain chose that moment to announce the approaching landing. From their perch above, they watched with keen interest as Brennan shook Booth awake. He came to consciousness slowly, flexing his wide shoulders and shifting in his seat before he captured her gaze and held it with his sleep-fuzzy smile. Tension hummed richly between them for a instant before, clearing her throat roughly, Brennan tore her eyes away and began gathering her things. Unseen, their mothers shared a triumphant smile.

Watching the passengers disembark, Ruth paid special attention to an elderly woman sitting in the front row. When the plane was empty, she waved Milly on. "Give me a sec," she said. "If I'm not out there in a few minutes, hide their luggage or something."

Milly followed her glance, shrugged, and headed to the jetway. When she looked back, Ruth was taking a seat beside the woman. "Hello," Milly heard her say gently. "I'm Ruth."

.

.

.

"Got another one, did you?" Milly asked when the two of them were seated in the back of the SUV as Booth drove away from the airport.

"Mrs. Marini was very sweet," Ruth ignored the teasing. "She had a heart attack on that plane nine years ago. It's sad that she was afraid to leave it."

"Huh. You know," Milly smiled, "even Michael didn't know you were going to start this little project of yours. Apparently, he was very surprised."

"Well, I don't see how he could have known," Ruth replied, "since I didn't, either." She caught Milly's eye. "How did you hear that?"

"Huh? Oh . . . um . . . " Milly lifted one shoulder in a gesture of studied casualness. "Raf told me."

Ruth's eyes widened. "Raphael? When was he here?"

"When did he tell me about Michael? Oh," One hand lifted in an expansive gesture. "I don't know . . . it was way back . . ."

"Does he come down here often?" Ruth's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"What?" Milly's quick glance over didn't quite allow for their eyes to meet. "No." She shook her head. "I don't think so. No. Well, who can keep up with them, right? I mean, they come and go as they please . . . Shhhh!" she insisted suddenly, pointing to the front seat.

"_Are __you __sure __you __want __me __to __take __you __to__ the __lab__?" __Booth__ asked__. __One __hand __lay __lightly __across__ the __steering wheel__ as __he __slanted __a__ glance __at __Brennan__. "__That __was __a __long __flight__ - __if __you__'__re __hungry__, __we __could __stop __by __Wong __Foos __or__ . . ."_

"_No__, __that __won__'__t __be __necessary__," __Brennan__ answered__. "__I__'__m __not __particularly __hungry __at __the __moment__ and __I__ would __like __to __get __started __on__ the __case __file __so __it __won__'__t __fill __my __entire __day __tomorrow__." __She __looked __over __briefly__, __her __expression __unreadable__. "__Besides__, __I__'__m__ sure __Tessa __is __anxious __to __see__ you __again __after __your __absence __in __Washington__." _

_Booth __nodded__. "__Yea__. __Yea__, __you__'__re __probably __right__. __I __just __thought__ . . ." __He__ forced __a__ wide __smile__. "__To__ the __lab__ it __is__!"_

Distracted from her earlier questions, Ruth considered the two of them thoughtfully as the drive continued in silence. "You know, maybe we're going about this the wrong way."

"What do you mean?" Milly looked at her curiously, hiding her relief at the change in subject. "What other way is there?"

"Instead of the two of us trying to make things happen from the outside, maybe we should be working on someone who's actually there. I mean, if we can see what's brewing between them, surely other people can, too, right?" When Milly's only response was an uncertain frown, Ruth continued. "Like Angela. Didn't you say she's always pushing Tempe toward Seeley?"

"Yes, that's true." Milly scratched her chin and considered the suggestion for a minute. "I'm not sure she's the best choice, though. What I mean is," she explained, "she wants Tempe to have sex with him but I'm not sure she's actually advocating for a relationship. She just wants her to buy a ticket on that ride . . . whatever that means," she added with a roll of her eyes.

Ruth shrugged. "It's a start and you know Seeley, he's really very traditional. If we can get them in bed together I think he'll want to be more than just a guy she had sex with."

Milly bristled immediately. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What?" Ruth was taken aback. "It didn't mean anything, I just . . ."

"Just because Tempe doesn't need everything tied up with pretty bows and an _I __love __you _doesn't mean she takes sex lightly," Milly argued. "She knows how complicated it can be - she doesn't sleep with just anyone."

"I wasn't suggesting . . ."

"And if she chooses to keep her feelings to herself instead of jumping right into a relationship just because of sex, well, that's her prerogative," Milly continued defensively. "After what she's been through, you can't blame her for not trusting-" She cut off the flow of words abruptly when Ruth's eyes filled with pain.

"I know," she whispered roughly. "It's all my fault. We never should have left . . ."

The car rolled to a stop and everything that might have been said was left unspoken as Brennan got out of the car, waiting impatiently when Booth insisted on getting her bag himself from the back of the SUV.

"Ruth . . ." Milly took a moment to squeeze her hand tightly before she, too, had to get out of the vehicle. The other woman shook her head and waved her away.

"It's fine. I'm fine." Booth returned to the car then, the sound of his door closing a loud noise in the quiet that separated the two women he couldn't see. As he pulled away, Milly raised a hand to wave goodbye and hoped Ruth saw it.

.

.

* * *

><p><em>Originally, this chapter was going to cover another episode as well but this next part is going to hurt and I want to do it justice. So, this is what you get for the moment. If you're following along at home, this chapter covers <em>Man in the SUV, Boy in a Tree, and Man in a Bear.


	14. Heavy Burdens

The students filed in, their voices echoing around the empty auditorium as they chattered and formed clusters and found seats together. Brennan and Dr. Goodman crossed the stage to shake hands with the dean and the chair of the department and stood conversing for a few moments while the room filled. Finally, they took their own seats as the dean stepped up to the podium and after a false start that resulted in an ear-piercing scream of feedback, began the speech he had prepared to introduce Brennan. There was a loud round of applause when she stepped up to the mic.

Milly did her best but fifteen minutes into Brennan's presentation she'd lost the ability to pretend she had any interest in the history of FBI/Jeffersonian Institute inter-agency cooperation. When the lights dimmed and Brennan began working her way through a series of images projected onto the screen behind her, she gave up. Stretching out on the floor of the stage in front of the podium, she folded her arms beneath her head and stared up at the ceiling. Almost two weeks had passed since the trip to Washington and in that time, there had been no contact between Booth and Brennan - and none between their mothers. Listening to the husky tone of Brennan's voice, Milly lay there and worried . . . about Ruth, about their last conversation, about why the other woman hadn't come to the church to meet as they'd agreed and, she acknowledged to herself privately, she worried about other things, things she had no business even thinking about let alone fretting over.

"If you weren't already dead, I'd think you were preparing to sacrifice yourself." Ruth's voice was filled with amusement when she propped her elbows on the stage, her head level with Milly's.

"Hey!" Booth's mother lifted herself up on both elbows. "Where'd you come from? Where have you been? Why weren't you at the church last week?" The room darkened briefly as the images behind Brennan changed; she grimaced at the screen. "And what are you doing here?"

Ruth gestured over her shoulder; peering through the darkness Milly saw a shadowy figure slide into an aisle seat. "Seeley has a case. He called Tempe's office and they told him she was going to be here tonight." She paused. "It's a child."

"Oh." The word hung in the air between them, suspended on threads of regret. Milly shook it off and sat up. "Well, I'm glad to see you anyway. Ruth," she hesitated briefly, "about what I said the other day, about Tempe . . . I had no right to-"

Ruth shook her head. "No, it's okay," she interrupted. "You were right. Of course she would keep everyone at arm's length. It makes sense that it's hard for her to trust anyone enough to . . ." She paused and looked up, watching her daughter speak. "I left . . . We left her. There was no warning, we didn't … we didn't leave a note or call, we, we were just gone." Her eyes met Milly's. "Max and I, we got careless. We settled down and years passed and we started to believe we were safe, that no one would ever find us. But they did." She took a deep breath. "And we panicked. We should have had a plan," she added, shaking her head. "Maybe if we'd been more prepared, if we'd always been ready, we'd have done things differently." Ruth smiled sadly. "I'm sure Russ did the best he could but she needed us . . . and we abandoned her."

Milly swallowed over the hard knot of dread that formed in her throat, struggling within herself over the question of revealing what she knew about Brennan's life after her parents' disappearance. "Ruth," she began.

"But I'm here now," the other woman interrupted. "I can't change what happened in the past but I can be here for her now. I can help her find happiness now. I have to be content with that."

"Ruth, I-"

The lights went up before she could get the words out. Dr. Goodman stepped to the podium and began taking questions from the students, his irritation readily apparent when they seemed to be more interested in Brennan's work as a writer than in her expertise as a forensic anthropologist. He rebuked them sharply then paused as a broad, familiar figure rose in the crowd.

"_I __have __a __question__ - __regarding __the __role __of __the __FBI __in __your __book__," __Booth __said__, __catching __Brennan__'__s __eye __as __he __continued__. "__Who __do __you __base __brilliant __and __insightful __Special __Agent __Andy __Lister __on__?"_

"_Oh__, __for __God__'__s __sake__," __Dr__. __Goodman __muttered __with __an __expressive __roll __of __his __eyes__._

"_Because__, __you __know__," __Booth __sniffed __and __resettled __his __wide __shoulders__, "__I__'__m __pretty __sure __it __was __me__."_

_A __loud __buzz __filled __the __auditorium __as __students __repeated __his __words __and __murmured __to __each __other__, __shifting __in __their __seats __to __get __a __look __at __him __and __in __some __cases__, __standing __up __in __order __to __see __better__. _

_Brennan __raised __her __voice __in __an __attempt __to __be __heard __over __the __noise__. "__What __are __you __doing __here__, __Booth__?" _

"_Official __FBI __business__, __Bones__," __he __answered__, __his __tone __as __cheeky __as __his __smile__. _

"_Don__'__t __call __me__ . . ." __She __gave __a __loud __huff __of __annoyance __before __turning __to __Dr__. __Goodman __with __an __air __of __resignation__. __He __nodded __and __took __the __microphone__. _

"_This __concludes __Dr__. __Brennan__'__s __lecture__. __If __you __have __any __questions__ - __related __to __anthropology__," __he __added __with __emphasis__, "__you __may __submit __them __in __writing__. __Thank __you__." _

Milly shot a surprised look at Ruth. "She wrote about Seeley?"

Ruth nodded. "Oh, it's definitely him. Haven't you read her book?"

"Of course not," Milly grumbled. "I'm with her all day, why would I want to read about her job, too?"

Ruth tsked. "You should read it. She's very . . . descriptive," she added with a suggestive lift of her eyebrows.

_Brennan __headed __to __the __steps __leading __down __from __the __stage__, __glancing __over __at __Booth __in __time __to __see __a __gaggle __of __coeds __slink __toward __him__. "__Are __you __really __the __inspiration __for __Andy__?" __a __petite __brunette __asked__, __peeping __up __at __him __through __a __curtain __of __dark __lashes__. __He __looked __over __her __shoulder __and __grinned __as __Brennan __shook __her __head __emphatically__._

"_Well__, __you __know__," __he __began__, __chuckling __as __Brennan __speared __him __with __a __glance__, "__Bones __doesn__'__t __like __to __talk __about __that__ . . ."_

"_No__, __no__, __he__'__s __not __in __the __book__," __Brennan __insisted__, __trying __to __force __her __way __through __the __mingling __students __to __his __side__._

"_Would you mind signing this for me?" another student asked, tossing her long __sun-streaked__ hair flirtatiously over one shoulder as she held out her copy._

"_He__'__s __not __in __the __book__," __Brennan __arrived __in __time __to __snatch __it __from __the __girl__'__s __hand__. _

_A __third __girl __stepped __up__, __tall __and __willowy __with __a __shining __cap __of __bright__, __copper __colored __hair__. "__Are __you __really __an __FBI __agent__?" __she __purred__, __her __green __eyes __sweeping __hungrily __over __the __width __of __his __shoulders__. "__Like__, __do __you __have __a __gun __and __everything__?" __Her __tongue __swept __out __to __moisten __already __glossy __red __lips__. "__Because __I__'__d __really __love __to __see __your__ . . . __gun__ . . . "_

"_Who __are __you__?" __Brennan __stepped __between __them __as __Booth __blinked __and __took __a __tiny __step __back __from __the __predatory __look __on __the __young __woman__'__s __face__. "__You __are __not __one __of __my __students__. __Booth__," __Brennan __faced __him__, __putting __the __woman __at __her __back__, "__this __woman __is __not __one __of __my __students__. __I __assume __we __have __human __remains __to __examine__?" __At __his __nod__, __she __turned __and __faced __the __group __of __young __women__. "__Excuse __me__, __we __have __decomposing __human __remains __to see__. __Please __direct __the __rest __of __your __questions __to __Dr__. __Goodman__." __She __stared __stonily __at __each __of __them__, __arms __crossed __over __her __chest__, __until __they __began __to __disperse__. __When __she __and __Booth __were __alone__, __she __tossed __a __disgruntled __look __in __his __direction__. "__I__'__ll __get __my __coat __and __be __right __back__."_

Milly and Ruth watched her long strides carry her away before exchanging a triumphant smirk. "Look who's jealous now," Milly crowed.

_Brennan __returned __shortly__, __the __length __of __her __coat __swinging __against __her __calves__, __a __heavy __briefcase __in __hand__. "__Where __are __we __going__?" __she __asked __as __they __exited __the __lecture __hall__._

"_Local __police __got __an __anonymous __call __saying __that __there __were __human __remains __in __a __field __behind __a __mall __in __the __suburbs__," __Booth __began__._

"Wow!" Ruth exclaimed when Tempe approached a sleek silver coupe. "Is that Tempe's car?"

Milly nodded. "Her publishers just gave it to her. Sweet, huh? Seeley is going to love it."

_Booth was __laughing __when Brennan approached the car__. "__You__'__ve __got __to __be __kidding__."_

Ruth pulled a face. "Or not. Maybe he's not into cars?"

"He loves cars," Milly disagreed. "He's just playing it cool."

"Playing it cool?"

"Obviously."

" _. . . __supposed __to __be __a __nice __car__."_

_Booth __took __a __step __closer __and __peered __into __the __interior__. "__Gave __it __to __you__?"_

"Of course, she parked like an idiot," Milly pointed out.

"_W__hy__'__d __you __park __it __crooked__?" __Booth __asked__._

"_Well__, __the __guy __said __to __always __park __it __like __that__," __Brennan __answered__. _

_Booth __stuck __his __hands __in __his __pockets __and __shook __his __head__. "__He__'__s __wrong__. __It __makes __you __look __like __an __idiot__."_

"I tried to tell her," Milly shrugged. "The guy gave her orange road cones, too, and told her to put those in the empty spaces beside the car. She should have used them instead."

Ruth was bent over the car, peering inside. "Where are we going to sit if they take this to the mall? There's no backseat."

"They won't take this car," Milly asserted confidently. "Trust me."

Ruth straightened. "Why not?"

"Because Seeley's a cop," Milly explained. "He can't show up in this . . . this little toy. No one would . . ."

". . . . _it __would __detract __from __the __gravity __of __my __FBI __presence__," __Booth __was __saying__, __his __expression __smug__. _

Silently, Milly held out a hand in his direction.

"Good," Ruth responded. "I like Seeley's car better anyway. I wasn't really looking forward to riding on the hood of that thing, or in the trunk."

Milly looked at her curiously as they followed their children to Booth's SUV. "It's not like we really take up space."

"I like to keep things as normal as possible," Ruth answered primly before she passed through the front seats to the back and settled in.

"That was normal?" Milly asked pointedly.

"Not listening."

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.

.

.

"It's so little," Ruth murmured, looking at the small skeleton laid out anatomically on the exam table. "I don't know how they do it - work on cases like this, I mean. When it's a child," she clarified.

"Me, either," Milly sighed.

"I know I've told you this before, Milly, but Seeley is very good," Ruth said. "You should have seen him earlier - he found out where this boy really disappeared from and all he did was talk to his brothers. Well," she clarified, "they're not really his brothers. They're foster kids the mother took in."

Milly started in surprise. "What?" Before she could pursue the topic further, Booth and Brennan entered the small room, for some reason arguing over Star Trek and baby animals. Her mind raced in circles around the new revelation, distracting her to the point where she didn't notice Booth's focus on what was left of the little boy until Ruth's whisper reached her.

"He's about the size of Parker, isn't he?"

"Oh, no," she breathed out, looking from Booth to the small bones. "I didn't notice."

"_The __thing __to __do __is __concentrate __on __the __details__," __Zach __advised__, __his __tone __even__._

_Booth __hesitated __before __forcibly __refocusing __his __attention__. "__Let__'__s __do __that__," __he __agreed__, __clearing __his __throat __roughly__. _

"I guess that's how they do it," Ruth murmured. "They stop looking at the bones as people."

"I guess so," Milly responded. She caught Ruth's eye. "Tempe said she puts her heart in a box."

"Let's not let that become a habit."

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.

.

"I don't like this." Milly paced restlessly behind Margaret Sanders as she wept over the baby she'd taken home so many years before.

"I know," Ruth agreed. "It's so sad. Tempe is obviously very affected by her story."

"Yes, I can tell." Milly stopped in her tracks. "Ruth-"

_Booth __came __around __the __side __of __the __table__. "__Margaret __Sanders__, __I__'__m __placing __you __under __arrest __for __kidnapping __and __transporting __across __state __lines __a __minor __child__, __Nathan __Downey__ . . ."_

"_What__?" __Brennan __stood __up __so __quickly __her __chair __fell __to __the __floor__. "__Booth__, __you __can__'__t__-"_

"_Wait __outside__, __Bones__," __he __ordered __as __he __reached __for __Margaret__'__s __wrists__. __She __stood __up__, __still __crying__, __her __head __hanging __forward__._

"_Booth__, __you __can__'__t__-"_

"_Bones__!" __His __voice __was __sharp__, __his __eyes __hard __and __implacable__. "__Wait __outside__," __he __repeated __forcefully__._

_Mouth __pursed __tightly__, __Brennan __glared __back __at __him __for __a __long __moment __before __she __jerked __the __door __open __and __left __the __conference __room__._

Helplessly, Milly looked back at Ruth before following her.

Twenty minutes later she was pacing again, this time keeping up with Brennan as she did the same thing right outside Booth's office, when he turned the corner and headed in their direction. Ruth tagged along behind him.

"_Why__ did __you __do __that__, __Booth__?" __Brennan__'__s __long __strides __ate __up __the __hallway when she met__him __halfway__. _

"_I __had __to __arrest __her__," __he __responded __shortly__, __his __tone __curt __as __they __entered __his __office__._

"Why is she mad at Seeley?" Ruth asked in confusion. "He was just doing his job."

"She's not mad at him, she's mad at the situation." Milly heaved a big sigh. "It's hard to explain . . ."

"_. . . __I __bet __you __could __give __me __a __dozen __examples __of __societies __that __have __killed __their __own __young__," __Booth __said__, __stepping __around __his __desk __to __confront __Brennan__. _

"_What __about __Shawn __and __David __Cook__?" __she __demanded__. "__Where __do __they __go __now__?"_

"_Back __into __the __system__," __he __stated __baldly__, __turning __away __from __her__._

"_Do __you __have __any __idea __how __bad __the __foster __care __system __is__?" __she __argued __forcefully__, __her __voice __rising __in __agitation__._

"_Do __you__?" __Booth __asked __pointedly__. __When __she __pursed __her __lips __and __refused __to __reply__, __he __continued__. "__What __do __you __want __to __do__, __hmm__? __Do __you__ . . ."_

"They're really fighting over this," Ruth noticed. "I mean, they're both being really defensive."

Milly observed them closely. "I know. I can't tell if Seeley knows-" She cut herself off abruptly.

"Knows what?" Ruth asked. "That Tempe's upset? I think that's pretty obvious."

Glaring at Booth angrily, Brennan turned without a word and walked out of his office, sweeping past the women she couldn't see. Milly just managed to step back in time and before she'd taken the first step to follow her, Brennan was already several feet away, headed to the elevators. Frustrated, Milly growled and rushed out. "We'll talk later, Ruth!"

She knew Brennan by now and was unsurprised when the anthropologist ignored the taxis zooming by on the street outside and headed in the direction of the Jeffersonian on foot, her long legs combined with her emotional upheaval lending speed to her pace. In what felt like half the usual time, they'd covered the city blocks that separated the two workplaces and Milly had made up her mind to share with Ruth everything she had discovered about what had happened to Brennan after her parents' disappearance. There was no way to avoid causing her pain, Milly knew, but there was hopefully a more gentle way to inflict it than having her discover those facts accidentally.

Unfortunately, that decision required Ruth to be present in order for the discussion to take place and she was, again, conspicuously absent. When Milly saw Booth working later that day with Angela and Zach over images taken from the mall's security cameras but didn't find Ruth there as well, she assumed the other woman was taking the opportunity to be near her daughter. She made her way to Brennan's office and found the scientist deep in conversation with Dr. Hodgins, but still, no Ruth. Perplexed, she wandered through the lab, searching offices and even storage rooms with no success. Out of ideas and frustrated, she was standing in the middle of the hallway when Booth walked out of Angela's office, Brennan on his heels.

"_What __are __you __going __to __do__?" __she __asked__._

_He __looked __over __his __shoulder __but __didn__'__t __stop__. "__I__'__m __going __to __make __arrangements __to __have __Shawn __Cook __brought __in __for __questioning__. __What __do __you __think __I__'__m __going __to __do__?"_

"_Booth__!" __Brennan __halted __him __with __a __hand __on __his __arm__. "__He__'__s __a __child__-"_

"_And __we __just __saw __him __leading __Charlie __Sanders __out __of __the __mall__, __which __could __mean __he __was __either __the __last __person __to __see __Charlie __alive __or __that __he __might __have __been __the __one __who __killed __him__." __His __stare __was __hard__. "__I __don__'__t __have __a __choice __here__, __Bones__."_

_She __held __his __gaze __for __a __long __moment__. "__I __want __to __be __there __when __he__'__s __questioned__." _

_He __hesitated __for __a __fraction __of __a __second__. "__Fine__." __He __turned __sharply __and __walked __away__. "__I__'__ll __call __you__."_

.

.

.

"These rooms give me the creeps." Milly started in surprise when Ruth appeared next to her. "They make me feel like a spy."

"Where have you been?" Milly exclaimed angrily. "It's been almost two days since I've seen you!"

"Did I miss something?" Ruth asked, taken aback by the heat behind Milly's words. "I've been in the building Seeley works in . . . I just lost track of time. Did you know there's a whole group of people who never leave the storage vaults-"

"You are supposed to stay with Seeley, remember?" Milly poked the other woman's shoulder. "We were told to stay with them!"

"Why are you so upset?" Ruth's own ire began to grow. "It's not like I lost him. I was in his building, where he works every day."

"I'm upset because we have live people to help, Ruth," Milly answered forcefully. "Live people . . . as in our own children! They're the reason we're stuck here, or have you forgotten?"

"No, I haven't-"

"Look, I know you're excited about your little project but you need to learn how to prioritize, and that means Tempe and Seeley." Milly chin jutted out as she finished speaking. "I told you I needed to talk to you and then you disappeared! You can't do that!"

"Fine!" Ruth bit out. "I'm here now. Talk to me." Just then she looked over Milly's shoulder and frowned. "Why is Tempe going in there instead of Seeley? That doesn't make sense."

Milly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "They have pictures of him taking the little boy who died out of the mall but when Seeley tried to talk to him yesterday he got stonewalled. Angela figured out that it had to be a grown man who killed Charlie and Tempe thinks she can get Shawn to tell her what happened."

Ruth laughed shortly. "Why? Tempe wasn't good with kids when she was a kid." Something she saw in Milly's face wiped the mirth from her face. "What?"

"Ruth . . ." Milly hesitated for a fraction of a second before plunging in. "Tempe thinks that she knows how to talk to Shawn because . . . because she was a foster child herself." Ruth's face went blank. "After you and your husband left."

"No." Ruth shook her head immediately. "No." She glanced through the mirror and watched as Tempe exchanged a few words with Shawn's advocate then sat down beside the frightened young boy. "No, that's not right. We left her with Russ." When she looked back at Milly her eyes were wide with the beginning of panic. "No, I know that's not true. We left her with Russ. He was 19, he was supposed to take care of her."

"Ruth . . ." She shook off the hand Milly put on her arm and stepped closer to the two-way glass.

"No," she whispered again. "No. We left her with Russ . . ."

_Brennan __leaned __in __closer __to __Shawn__. "__Smart __enough __to __know __that __you __didn__'__t __kill __Charlie__," __she __said__, __keeping __her __voice __pitched __low __as __if __she __were __speaking __only __to __him__. "__You __don__'__t __have __to __say __anything__, __Shawn__. __Just __listen__." __She __paused __momentarily __before __continuing__. "__They __give __you __a __garbage __bag__," __she __said __softly__, "__to __carry __all __your __stuff__, __like __they__'__re __telling __you __everything __you __own __is __garbage__." __Her __face __reflected __the __pain __she __felt __when __Shawn __began __to __cry__. "__And __then __you __have __to __go __to __a __new __school __in __clothes __that __smell __like __garbage __bags__.'  
><em>

Milly stepped up beside Ruth and placed a comforting hand on her back. "Ruth?"

"No." Her head shook from side to side. "No."

_Shawn__'__s __tears __fell __even __as __he __refused __to __look __at __Brennan__. "__All __the __regular __kids __know __you__'__re __a __foster __kid__. __How __do __you __know __what __it__'__s __like__?"_

"_They __bounce __you __from __place __to __place__," __was __all __Brennan __said __in __response__. "__And __it__'__s __never __home__."_

Ruth's shoulders shook as she began to sob. Milly pulled her into a hug and held on tight. "I'm so sorry," she said over and over again. "I'm so sorry, Ruth."

"_Like __Margaret__?" _

"_Yea__," __Brennan __answered__, __her __voice __breaking__. "__And __sometimes __they __separate __you __from __your __brother__. __It __must __have __been __nice__ . . ."_

With a harsh cry, Ruth pushed away from Milly and before the other woman could follow her, fled the room.

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.

Without knowing how she got there, Ruth found herself in the little sanctuary she and Milly used as a meeting place. She dropped to her knees then fell forward on her hands and gave herself up to the sorrow and regret that manifested themselves in the tears that wracked her body. Vaguely she was aware of others around her - the living, there to light candles or sit in peace and the dead, who also came to sit in peace and remember. When the first hard bit of weeping ended she picked herself up from the floor and found a seat in one of the empty pews. It took only the memory of the pain on her daughter's face to start the tears falling again, her arms hugged tightly around her middle, her head bent forward.

How much time passed she didn't know but it was the sudden stillness of the room that first captured her attention, and it was then she became aware of his presence beside her. She kept her eyes closed, her head down, and allowed the tears to dry on her cheeks.

"Is this part of my punishment?" she asked finally, her voice hoarse in the silence of the chapel. "Finding out what we . . . what happened to her?"

"This was unavoidable," Michael responded. "Had you and Millicent never interfered in your children's lives, still would you one day have discovered the facts of your daughter's youth."

Ruth sniffed gently and a handkerchief of snowy white linen was offered. She accepted it gratefully. "What happened?" she asked softly. "I don't understand why - I'm not blaming Russ, Max and I are completely responsible for leaving them, but why didn't he take care of her? Why was she alone?"

"Harsh words were exchanged," Michael replied, "the regret for which came too late." His voice was a deep rumble filling the silence of the room. "He was at the threshold of adulthood himself and uncertain of his ability to provide the care she needed."

"But why didn't anyone tell me?" Ruth finally dared to look at him and found him staring at her without the censure she expected and instead, she was certain, with a hint of sympathy in the depths of his fathomless black eyes. "We sent someone to check on them," she insisted. "Max told me he sent someone. Bird knew people . . ." She let her voice trail off, uncertain of the protocol in discussing with an archangel a man who made his living on the wrong side of human law.

"Your husband kept this knowledge from you for the span of one day," Michael answered without addressing her discomfort over the topic of Bird. "The day you returned home."

Ruth's chin dropped and then she laughed without humour. "What great timing I have," she said bitterly.

"No one is promised tomorrow," Michael said simply.

Ruth saw again her daughter's face as she spoke of shared experiences to Shawn Cook and swallowed over the knot that formed in her throat. "Is she okay?" she found the courage to ask. "Was she safe, when she was in foster care?"

Michael met her eyes. "All those born of woman must suffer, each according to their destiny. Temperance endured more than some," he acknowledged, "but less, much less than others."

Ruth nodded, accepting the truth of his words while feeling the stab of pain that came from knowing she was responsible for any scars, physical or otherwise, Tempe bore from that time. At that moment, a furtive movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention and she looked up to find the small sanctuary crowded with familiar faces. She glanced up at Michael to gauge his reaction.

"They have been gathering for some time," was all he said, a glint of humor in the fractional lift of one dark eyebrow.

"I've been talking to them about home," she explained, "about going home, I mean - I don't know how they knew you were here but obviously . . ." she waved a hand toward the group. Taking note of their reaction to her guest, she smiled. "I don't think you're what they expected," she said, looking over the sharply sophisticated black suit he wore.

This time, she was sure she saw laughter in his eyes when he inclined his head toward her. "We must not let your efforts be for naught," he said before touching her arm lightly. "You will be at ease, Ruth," he instructed and she nodded as warmth spread from the spot where his fingertips brushed her skin, lessening the fierce ache of sorrow and regret and dulling the sharpness of her grief.

Then he stood up - and hers wasn't the only loud gasp that filled the room as he stretched taller and taller, the rich black suit disappearing into robes of such blinding white that everyone watching lifted an arm to shield their eyes from the glare. In the blink of an eye the small sanctuary was hidden in the brilliance of the light that surrounded him and radiated out from him. He hovered in front of them, his feet a foot or more above the floor and as he opened his arms, a magnificent pair of white wings appeared at his back, spreading wide and even taller as he looked down on the group that fell as one to their knees in front of him. "Welcome home, children," he said, in a rumbling voice that echoed around the room and shook the very walls that surrounded them. For an instant the light was so hot and bright it was as if the sun itself had dropped from the sky. In a protective reflex, Ruth closed her eyes and tucked her chin against her shoulder. When she opened them again, she was alone and the small sanctuary was as it had always been.

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.

Milly waited in vain for Ruth to return. She trailed alone after her son and Brennan through the rest of the busy day and looked over her shoulder constantly, but there was no sign of the other woman. Even when Booth came back to the lab at the end of the day, he was alone.

"You worry overmuch, Millicent."

"I can't help it," she replied, leaning on the railing of the walkway high above the platform to better watch the group below. "It broke her heart, just like I said it would."

"Michael spoke with her."

"Good," she nodded. "I'm sure that helped."

"He was greeted with a group of her lost souls," he added. "She scolded him for looking less magnificent than was expected."

Milly couldn't help laughing, her eyes sparkling brightly when she looked at him. "She didn't!" When Raphael nodded, she shook her head. "Did he break out the wings?"

"He did."

"Wow. Well," she smiled at him, "she was right. The wings are magnificent."

"They are." The two of them watched Booth as he tripped over his words trying to compliment Brennan's change in appearance for the party. The silence stretched out between the two observers for a long moment before Raphael spoke again. "Yet are they also a heavy burden to bear."

Milly looked down when his hand covered hers where it gripped the railing. She studied the smooth bronze skin covered in a dusting of sun bleached fine white hair for a moment and then giving into impulse, turned her hand over and threaded her fingers through his.

.

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* * *

><p><em>In case you're wondering, the character 'Bird' that Ruth mentions is one of my invention from "<em>On the Run." _Not that I'm pimping another of my fics but . . . okay, I'm kinda pimping another story. Most of you guessed this chapter was going to deal with _"Boy in a Bush" _and it did, so cookies and rainbow sprinkles for everyone!_

_Thanks for reading and (hopefully) reviewing!  
><em>


	15. Ghost of Christmas Past

"I got rid of the girlfriend." Ruth glanced at Milly as Booth opened the door of a small conference room and motioned for Brennan to precede him.

Milly hesitated a moment, searching for the best way to respond while pretending to be absorbed watching their children take seats on opposite sides of the table. Much as she was doing to Ruth, Booth seemed likewise to be avoiding Brennan's gaze by flipping through sheets of paper attached to the clipboard he held. Milly, unfortunately, had nothing so concrete to keep her companion distracted from her lack of response.

"_Name__?" __Booth __asked__, __his __voice __brusque __and __official__. _

_Brennan __cocked __her __head __at __the __absurd __question__. "__You __know __my __name__," __she __pointed __out__._

"_Bones__," __he __responded__, __copying __her __peevish __tone__, "__you __are __making __an __official __request __to __the __FBI__ . . . "_

"Did you hear me?" Ruth asked when the delay became noticeable. "I got rid of the girlfriend."

"Yea," Milly answered, sending her a quick glance. "Um . . . how do you mean?" she asked, striving to keep her tone as light as possible. Since discovering the truth of her daughter's life after she and husband fled, Ruth had been alternately fragile and focused, one moment wanting to be as close to Brennan as possible and in the next, hatching impossible idea after impossible idea in an attempt to give her a happy-ever-after.

Ruth eyed her sideways, well aware of Milly's tiptoe maneuvers. "Well, I don't mean _that_ kind of 'got rid of,' she said archly. "Remember how she got so freaked out when Angela talked about her and Seeley moving in together that she canceled on their vacation?"

"Do I remember that you got to spend a week in paradise and the only places I've ever been with Tempe are bug-infested jungle death camps?" Milly crossed her arms and looked at her friend with irritation. "Yea. I remember."

Ruth shook her head with a tsk tsk. "Let it go, hon. Anyway," she added, biting back a smile when Milly huffed loudly, "I sort of . . . gave her an extra push."

Milly could no longer attempt to appear blase and turned to face her. "What did you do, Ruth?"

She grinned broadly. "Let's just say a little birdie whispered in her ear."

Milly's eyes started to twinkle even as she fought not to smile back. "You know Raphael said we have to be careful with that. People hearing voices in their head think they're going crazy."

Ruth dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. "If I thought driving her nuts would work, I'd have done it a long time ago. Besides, I waited until she was asleep," she explained, "and then I talked about how . . . great . . . living with someone was. Being with him all the time. Having him around, day after day . . . every day . . . all the time . . . forever . . ."

"Laid it on a bit thick, did you?" Milly chuckled.

Ruth's expression turned smug. "And then I talked about how living together led to getting married - and getting married led to babies."

"Babies?" Milly's mouth dropped open.

_Booth __stamped __the __form __with __a __sharp __click __and __held __it __up __so __the __large __red _DENIED _was __clearly __visible__. "__You __can__'__t __have __a __gun__," __he __told __her__._

"Well, mostly I talked about being pregnant," Ruth explained significantly, ignoring her daughter's loud outburst. "Retaining water, stretch marks. Fat ankles." She waited for Milly's laughter to subside. "She couldn't get out of there fast enough the next morning."

"That is brilliant, Ruth, brilliant!" Still laughing, Milly pulled her into a hug. "So she's gone now?"

"She's still tiptoeing around it," Ruth shrugged, "but she's got one foot out the door. She took all the clothes she kept at his place 'to the cleaners'" she inserted fingertip quotation marks sarcastically, "and hasn't brought any of them back. Trust me, she's a makeup bag away from being gone, gone, gone!" Her eyes lit up wickedly. "The next time she spends the night I'm going to mention leaky nipples and wide hips and that should be the end of her!" She raised her hand for a high-five. "Which means Tempe will have a clear shot to take her place!"

"You know," Milly said, slapping the uplifted palm triumphantly, "if this works it will almost make up for you causing this whole mess in the first place with that midnight whispering routine!"

"What? You're still blaming me for this?" Ruth grumbled as they trailed a bickering Booth and Brennan out of the conference room.

"Who else would I blame?"

"You're partly responsible, too," Ruth declared with a frown.

"I'm not the one who spent all night telling Tempe how dangerous Seeley was, am I?" Milly pointed out.

"That's not fair! I didn't know him then! Besides, you . . ."

"_There __has __to __be __someone __besides __Cullen__," __Brennan __said __as __she __followed __at __Booth__'__s __heels__._

"_Bones__, __you __don__'__t __need __a __gun__," __he __insisted__. "__If __anyone __needs __shooting__, __I__'__ll __do __it__."_

"_What __if __you__'__re __injured __or __dead __and __someone __still __needs __shooting__?" __she __asked__. "__I__'__m __not __hoping __it __will __happen__, __I__'__m __just __stating __a __possibility__ . . ."_

"Don't even try to lay this on me. This is all your fault, Ruth."

"No, it isn't!"

"Yes, it is."

"No it's not!"

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* * *

><p>.<p>

.

"Who is he?" Ruth glared at the tall dark haired man sharing a smile with her daughter.

Milly jerked a thumb behind her. "According to Angela, he's an old boyfriend."

"What?" Ruth stepped out of the way before the tech pulling a rusted refrigerator walked through her. "All that work I put into getting rid of the blonde and you let Tempe take up with the first good looking guy who comes along?" Her glare transferred to Milly. "Seeley is free now! She should be taking up with him!"

"Oh, hey, hey!" Milly wagged a finger. "First of all, back off!" she threatened. "Second, I'm not _letting_ her do anything. And third," she looked at the group staring at what was left of a young girl, "while Seeley's been dancing around the bedroom with Tessa, Tempe's been alone so ... good for her. And if Seels gets a little jealous, all the better. Besides," she added, "Tempe may not even be interested in this guy . . ."

"_Remove __and __clean __the __bones__, __Zack__," __Brennan __instructed __as __she __looked __over __the __remains __in __their __bent __position __one __last __time__. "__Michael__, __you __can __pick __me __up __at__ 7:30. __I__'__ll __give __you __my __address__." _

"Or, you know, maybe she is," Milly muttered.

"_Beautiful __lab__," __Stires __commented__. __Falling __in __step __beside __Brennan __he __casually __placed __a __hand __at __the __small __of __her __back__. _

"I don't like him," Ruth's eyes shot daggers after the couple.

Milly shook her head, considering the tall professor thoughtfully. "I don't think I do, either," she murmured. "There's something about him . . . I'm getting a weird vibe."

"A weird vibe?" Ruth glanced at Milly.

"What?" She raised a brow. "I can't get a vibe?"

Ruth pressed her lips together firmly, holding back a smile. "No, far be it from me to question your vibes."

"Thank you," Milly sniffed. "I'm very intuitive."

Wisely, Ruth said nothing at all.

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.

.

"Looks like your vibes were telling you the truth about him." Sitting beside Milly at the back of the courtroom, Ruth's voice was a quiet whisper.

Milly looked at Brennan as she struggled in the witness chair; reaching out, she grasped Ruth's hand and squeezed it tightly. "Are you okay?" she asked with concern.

Ruth nodded, her eyes also on Brennan. "It's hard," she acknowledged, "but it was harder for her, wasn't it? And it's still hard for her. That's what I have to remember." She caught Milly's eyes, her own bright with unshed tears, and took a deep breath. "Besides, we're here for them. Seeley and Tempe. They're what's important." She offered a wavering smile. "Priorities, right?"

Milly's answering smile flickered slightly as her gaze slid away. "Right," she said softly, almost speaking to herself. "Tempe and Seeley. Priorities." She glanced quickly around the room before squaring her shoulders resolutely. "Right. Priorities."

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* * *

><p>.<p>

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"You brought her a dead body? IT'S CHRISTMAS!"

Ruth flinched at Milly's shriek. "Not me - him!" She pointed to Booth as he helped lift the body bag onto the table. "And it's not his fault either!" she rushed to add. "It's not like he can schedule when he'd like bodies to be found!"

"But there's a party upstairs," Milly whined. "I want to go to the Christmas party!"

"Ah," Ruth nodded. "I guess that explains why Angela is dressed like that." She held up a hand to ward off Milly's response. "We're not staying! We have shopping to do," she explained, "so all Seeley really wants to do is leave the body here and deal with it later. You can still go to your party, unless . . ."

Milly waited a moment. "Unless?" she prompted.

"Well," Ruth hesitated, "I was wondering if you thought we could change places - just for a couple of days," she hastened to add. "Just through Christmas. I mean," she gestured to Booth and Brennan, "they see each other so much what harm could it do, you know? Just for the holidays?"

Milly watched Angela lead Booth away then turned a beaming smile on Ruth. "I think that's a great idea," she agreed happily. "If we get in trouble for it, what are they going to do - send us home?" She made a face as Brennan unzipped the body bag then grabbed Ruth's arm. "Come on, let's see if we can get Angela to copy her butt again."

.

.

"I never liked eggnog," Ruth murmured absently as a woman with a rope of unplugged Christmas lights wrapped around her head served herself another cup.

"Especially not without alcohol in it," Milly agreed with a grimace. She peered through the milling crowds. "Where are Angela and Seeley?"

Ruth pointed. "Angela is dragging that tall security guard to the mistletoe again," she said, "and Seeley is over there," she nodded, "hiding from the woman in the reindeer sweater."

"Awww, she's cute," Milly laughed.

"No one is cute in a reindeer sweater."

"Good point."

"Well, well," Ruth murmured a few minutes later. "That was interesting."

"What was?" Milly asked, dragging her attention from a man wearing giant elf ears singing "Jingle Bell Rock" into an empty beaker.

"Dr. Hodgins. Look," she nudged Milly's shoulder with her own. "He's watching Angela under the mistletoe."

Milly snorted. "Hodgins and Angela? Please - never going to happen. Hey," she said, scanning the room, "Where did Seeley go?"

"He's escaping." Stealthily keeping to the shadows, he hugged the wall as he crept toward the stairs.

Milly sighed. "Well, darn. I guess the party's over for me, too." When Ruth didn't follow her, she turned back. "Are you staying up here?"

Ruth nodded. "The party or the dead body? I'll take the party." Impulsively, she reached out and pulled the other woman into an embrace. "Merry Christmas, Milly. Thanks for letting me stay with Tempe."

Milly didn't hesitate to hug back. "I'm glad you thought of it," she smiled. "Merry Christmas to you!"

Alone, Ruth wandered through the throngs of people milling around the open room. She laughed quietly when Hodgins rushed past, Reindeer Sweater at his heels and amused herself for a little while moving half-filled punch cups and watching the owners search for them. Staring at the gaily lit tree she was lost in memories of Christmas past and didn't notice Angela stomp by, her expression determined or, several minutes later, Dr. Goodman also head out of the room.

The ear-piercing alarm that sounded through the entire building, however, got her undivided attention.

As the few revelers who were still celebrating hurried in the opposite direction toward the few exits that remained open, she made her way through the falling barriers and closed doors to the walkway overlooking the lab's platform. "What's going on?" she called down to Milly, surprised to see her there. "I thought you were leaving?"

"I thought we were, too," Milly answered, "but he started talked to Tempe and . . ."

_Dr__. __Goodman __looked __around __the __room__. "__Biological __contamination__," __he __intoned__._

"What?" Ruth's voice reflected her alarm.

_Angela __waved __one __hand __casually__. "__The __doors __seal __automatically__. __Don__'__t __worry __about __it__."_

"Don't worry about it?" Ruth repeated, aghast.

"_What __do __you __mean__, __don__'__t __worry __about __it__?" __Booth __asked__, __a __faint __note __of __panic __audible __beneath __his __voice__. _

"It's okay," Milly soothed. "This kind of thing happens here every couple of weeks."

_Brennan __followed __Goodman __from __the __platform__. "__There__'__s __no __use __panicking __until __we __know __what __it __is__."_

"_What __what __is__?" __Booth __demanded __in __frustration__._

"He said it was biological contamination!" Ruth pointed at Dr. Goodman.

"Yes but that could mean anyth...woa." Milly stared as Hodgins and Zack appeared, wrapped in towels. "Well, well, well," she murmured appreciatively, oogling Hodgins.

"Milly!" Ruth yelled, "What is going on!"

"_I __cut __into __the __fallout __shelter __bones__," __Zack __explained__, "__and __the __biohazard __alarm __went __off__."_

"Did you hear that?" Milly asked. "It's just bone dust." She eyed Hodgins again. "Who knew _that_ was under his lab coat?"

"Milly!" Ruth yelled again. "This isn't funny!"

"Relax," she replied with a shrug. "It can't be that bad - Micah's not here."

"Oh." Taken aback, Ruth looked around the spacious room and visibly relaxed. "Oh. Okay then."

.

.

'If I didn't know better," Milly grumbled, "I'd swear Michael knew we planned on switching places and decided to teach us a lesson." The two women sat on the overhead walkway, their legs dangling unseen while below them men zipped in Hazmat jumpsuits delivered sleeping bags and toiletries.

"Can he do that?" Ruth asked, leaning forward to get a better look at Tempe. She hung back from the group, letting the rest of them grab sleeping bags first before taking the last one.

"He can do anything he wants," Milly pointed out.

"Well, on the bright side," Ruth lifted one shoulder, "we still get to spend Christmas with the kids, right?"

"Yea." Milly was not appeased. "But being stuck here isn't exactly my idea of a Merry Christmas." She laughed reluctantly at Booth, who after rubbing the sleeping bag against his own cheek pushed it at Hodgins.

"_It__'__s __so __soft__," __he __cooed__. "__Feel __how __soft __it __is__!"_

_Hodgins __pushed __it __away __irritably__. "__I __am __not __sleeping __in __the __same __room __with __him__!" __he __announced __loudly__, __backing __away __and __cursing __mildly __when __Booth __followed __him__. _

"_Soft__," __he __purred __again__. "__Feel __it__!"_

"Okay," Milly allowed with a half-smile, looking over at Ruth. "It might be a little more entertaining than I thought." They giggled together as Booth carried his sleeping bag to each person and insisted they each touch it.

"_Is __someone __getting __pictures __of __this__?" __Angela __asked__, __laughing __when __Booth __pushed __the __bag __repeatedly __at __Brennan __until __she __finally __stroked __it __once __and __turned __away __with __a __roll __of __her __eyes__._

"_No __photos__, __Ms__. __Montenegro__," __Dr__. __Goodman __insisted__, __even __as __his __own __lips __twitched__. "__Agent __Booth __is __under __the __influence __of __the __drug __cocktail __administered __to __each __of __us__. __It __would __not __be __fair __to __record __him __in __his __current __state__."_

"_Who __said __anything __about __fair__," __she __murmured __as __Booth __brought __his __bag __to __her __again__, __giving __her __a __wide, happy __grin __when __she __rubbed __her __cheek __against __it __with __a __hum __of __appreciation__. _

"_Yes__, __well__, __in __any __case__, __there __will __be __no __photos__," __Dr__. __Goodman __replied__. "__Come __with __me__, __Agent __Booth__," __he __added__, __tapping __Booth __on __the __shoulder__. "__Let__'__s __get __you __settled __for __the __night__."_

When the room had cleared and everything below was quiet, Milly looked at Ruth thoughtfully. "How much exploring have you done? Around this place, I mean?"

"Exploring?" Ruth repeated quizzically. "Not much. I've only been here with you or with Tempe. Why?"

"That's what I thought." Milly got to her feet and held out her hand to help Ruth stand. "Since we've got nothing but time, I think there's someone you should meet. You can talk about lost souls," she added with a mysterious grin as she led Ruth down to limbo.

.

.

"_Psssst__," __Booth __poked __his __head __in to __Brennan__'__s __office__. "__Pssssssttt__!"_

_Angela __mumbled __sleepily __and __rolled __over __in __her __sleeping __bag__. _

"_Bones__!" __he __whispered __loudly__. "__Bones__! __Psssst__!"_

"_What __do __you __want__, __Booth__?" __Angela __kept __her __eyes __firmly __closed__. _

"_It__'__s __Christmas __Eve__!" __He __bounced __on __his __toes __happily__. "__Where__'__s __Bones__?"_

"_She__'__s __downstairs __working__," __Angela __groused__. __Her __fingers __groped __beside __her __until __she __found __the __elf __hat __she__'__d __worn __earlier__; __picking __it __up __she __threw __it __toward __the __sound __of __his __voice__. "__Go __away__!"_

Standing beside him, Milly chuckled when he deftly caught it and pulled it over his own head, swinging the long tail back and forth. _"__Merry __Christmas __Eve__, __Angela__!" __he __whispered __again __before __taking __off __down __the __hallway__, __the __festive __red __ball __at __the __end __of __the __tail __swirling __in __a __wide __circle __in __front __of __him__._

"Milly!" Ruth came hurrying up behind her. "That was amazing!" she exclaimed. "Thank you for introducing me to him!"

"I thought you two would have a lot to talk about," Milly smiled as Ruth fell into step beside her. "Did you meet any of the others?"

"Some," she nodded. "It's fascinating how they've stayed with their bones all this time. When they found out I was Tempe's mom they all wanted to talk to me, to tell me thank you. They think they belong to her."

Milly nodded. "I think they can see she really cares about them. Their bones are her calling and they respect that."

"It's really quite . . . what is he doing?" Ahead of them Booth tiptoed down the stairs and crouched behind one of the examining tables. Oblivious to his presence, Brennan stared into a microscope.

"He's still feeling his meds." Milly rolled her eyes. They stopped halfway down the stairs and leaned on the railing.

"_Bones__!" __Booth __popped __up __from __his __hiding __place__, __his __arms __stretched __up__. "__It__'__s __after __midnight__!" _

_Brennan __glanced __over __her __shoulder __briefly__. _

"_Huh__? __Christmas __Eve __day__?" __He __bounced __up __and __down__. "__Both __an __eve __and __a __day__ - __it__'__s __a __Christmas __miracle__!"_

_She __returned __her __attention __to __the __microscope__. "__Still __enjoying __your __medication__, __I __see__." _

Ruth laughed when he grabbed a stool and rolled it over beside her daughter. "I think he's cute."

"_Okay__, __so__, __what __are __we __looking __at__?" __he __asked__, __leaning __over __until __his __shoulder __bumped __hers__. _

_Brennan __did __her __best __to __ignore __the __nudge__. "__There __are __traces __of __lead __and __nickel __in __the __dead __guy__'__s __osteological __profile__."_

"I wish she thought he was cute," Milly muttered. "I think we should get them drunk again."

"She can be very stubborn," Ruth sighed. "She's just like her father, unfortunately."

"Yea," Milly snorted. "Her _father_ is stubborn."

"Trust me, if you'd ever met him . . .

"Well, I _have_ met you."

"I'll grant you that I have my moments but . . ." She caught Milly's expression out of the corner of her eye and stopped. "Why are we arguing?"

"We always argue."

"We need to stop," Ruth said righteously. "We must be picking up bad habits from the kids."

"_I __ruin __the __true __truth __with __facts__?" __Brennan __asked__, __her __tone __just __this __side __of __snide__._

"_Yea__," __Booth __answered__, "__and __you __ruin __it __for __the __squint __squad__, __too__, __by __making __them __work __on __a __case __about __a __guy __who__'__s __been __sealed __up __in __a __fallout __shelter __for __fifty __years__." __Disgusted__, __he __casually __tossed __a __photo __of __the __victim __to __the __side__._

_Brennan __turned __away __from __her __microscope__. "__Well__, __how __would __you __like __me __to __spend __my __Christmas__?" __she __asked__._

_He __leaned __in __close__. "__Christmas __is __the __perfect __time __to __reexamine __your __standing __with__, __you __know__ . . ." __His __voice __trailed __off__. _

_Brennan__'__s __eyes __followed __the __direction __of __the __finger __he __pointed __to __the __ceiling__. "__A __helicopter __pilot__?" __she __mocked__. _

"She's doing this on purpose! She's deliberately misunderstanding him," Milly declared. "How does she get a helicopter pilot from one finger pointing to the sky?"

"He was rotating his finger," Ruth defended her daughter, twirling her own finger as an example until she caught Milly's glare and dropped it quickly. "She doesn't really hate Christmas, you know," she added quietly. "It's just that Max and I left right before . . ."

"I know." Milly laid her hand over Ruth's where it rested on the railing. "I've heard her talk about it.

"That's why I wanted to trade places." Ruth shrugged. "I just thought . . ."

Milly gave her a one-armed hug. "Well, it didn't work out exactly the way we hoped but like you said, at least we're together." She looked down at Booth and Brennan and sighed. "Look at them. Look how close they are. You couldn't fit a paperclip between them and yet . . . See?" she exhaled loudly as Booth grabbed his elf hat and took off. "There he goes." She shook her head sadly. "Pathetic. Both of them."

"Some Christmas," Ruth muttered.

"And how."

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.

.

Milly found her in an empty office, sitting on the windowsill watching the wind blow the loose snow around the parking lot.

"I'm not in the mood for sympathy," she said without turning around.

"Okay." Milly joined her at the window. "How about company?"

"If I say no, will you go away?"

Milly considered for a moment. "Probably not."

Ruth ignored her and the minutes passed in silence. Every so often Milly peeked over at her friend but she said nothing, choosing to remain quiet and allow her presence to offer what comfort she could. Finally, Ruth reached through the window and caught a drifting snowflake on her outstretched hand. "We always had wonderful Christmases," she said, her voice low. "Tempe loved decorating cookies and Max," she laughed softly, "Max was just a big kid himself at Christmas. He and Russ were in charge of the tree and they always made a big deal of finding just the right one." Her jaw locked. "That first one after we . . . we were still at Bird's, in the safe house. We'd run into one of the men chasing us - he would have killed both of us," she murmured, "but Max . . ." Her voice trailed off self-consciously. "I was sick with worry all day, wondering about the kids, worrying about them, imagining what kind of day they were having . . ." She laughed without humor. "Now I know exactly what their day was like." Milly rubbed soothing circles on her back. "Every time I think I've reached a point where I can accept what we did . . . the effect it had . . . something else hits me like a sledgehammer." She swallowed over the hard knot in her throat. "Everyone else had someone," she whispered. "Everyone else had someone who loved them, who missed them today. It's Christmas Eve," she turned to Milly, her eyes wet. "And everyone had someone but Temperance."

"Yes," Milly agreed. "But that's not all on you. She chooses to be alone." Ruth shook her head. "Yes, she does. It's Christmas, she could have called her brother. He's called twice since I've been with her and she never answers the phone and she never calls him back." She watched Ruth's profile carefully. "You can't take all of this on yourself, Ruth. She's an adult, she's responsible for her own actions, too." She waited a few minutes then patted Ruth's knee. "She's in her office, if you want to see her. She's trying to find Ivy."

Leaving her friend staring again into the darkness outside, Milly slipped out into the hallway. She hadn't taken more than a dozen steps when she came to an abrupt stop. On top of a small table situated between two rather uncomfortable-looking chairs lay a single, perfect white rose, a wide red ribbon wrapped around the thick, rich green stem. She reached for it - and caught her breath. As her fingers curled around it, the satin petals unfurled to reveal a dark crimson center. Her nostrils flared as the scent drifted toward her; unable to resist she lifted it closer, breathing in the heavy perfume as the velvet texture brushed her cheek. Eyes wide, she looked around, searching the hallway and the surrounding area. Finding no one she studied the flower again, one finger trailing over the tips of the petals. .

"Merry Christmas," she whispered with a smile.

"Milly?" Ruth stood in the doorway of her office refuge. Startled, she thrust her hand behind her back to hide the rose before she realized it had disappeared. She circled the spot where she stood, searching for the flower. "Are you okay?"

"What?" She stopped turning. "Um...Yea." She glanced at the table, once again empty. "Yea," she nodded. "I just . . . I was . . ."

"Were you waiting for me?" Ruth's expression showed her confusion.

A half-second passed before Milly grasped at the lifeline. "Yes," she nodded. "Yes, that's what I was doing," she said quickly and put her arm through Ruth's. "I thought you might change your mind about being alone. Let's go see if Tempe found Ivy." After one last glance over her shoulder, she led Ruth downstairs.

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"Hey!" Milly looked up in surprise when Ruth followed Brennan into Wong Foos. "You got her to come! That's great!"

Ruth shook her head. "Wasn't me," she admitted as she took the seat beside Milly. "I didn't even have to try. That lady, Ivy? She and her granddaughter came in after everyone left. I think it was seeing them that changed her mind about coming."

"Well, whatever it was, I'm glad she's here," Milly smiled happily. "Parker's mom is going to drop him off - we're going to spend the whole afternoon with him!"

"That's wonderful," Ruth said sincerely. "He's going to love that toy," she said, pointing at the robot doing pushups on the bar.

"Oh, here he is!" Milly exclaimed as Parker came running in. Unable to resist, she moved close when Booth scooped him up. "He looks just like Seeley at that age!"

"He's adorable," Ruth agreed, her soft, approving smile identical to the one her daughter wore.

"_Can __it __flip__?" __the __boy __asked __as __he __examined __the __toy __his __father __handed __him__. _

"_How __cool__," __Booth __said__, __watching __Parker__'__s __face__. "__It __can __flip__, __trip__, __swim__, __whatever __you __want__."_

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Milly asked, pulling herself back from the excitement of seeing her grandson. "I know this is difficult for you - I can stay with you, we can both stay with Tempe." With effort, she kept the longing she felt to spend the next few hours with her son and his child from showing in her face.

"_Merry __Christmas__!" __Parker __chirped __at __his __father__'__s __prompting__._

Ruth's smile was genuine. "Go," she insisted. "Go enjoy the afternoon. We'll meet at the church tomorrow."

Milly nodded, accepting Ruth's gift for what it was. "All right. I'll see you tomorrow!" she waved, and followed Booth out.

Ruth walked beside Brennan as she traveled the few blocks back to the lab and stood silently as her daughter flipped the switch that lit the platform, highlighting the festive decorations the rest of the group had worked so hard to create. Brennan stood there for several minutes watching the play of color and light across the usually severe looking area then headed to her office. She hesitated only a moment beside Angela's holographic table before she picked up the control tablet and in seconds, the Christmas tree came to life again, twinkling and sparkling gaily. Ruth's heart fractured at the look of naked longing on Brennan's face but before she could react it was gone, replaced by a firm jaw and a raised chin. Curious, she looked on as Brennan withdrew from her desk a locked metal box and carried it to the tree, placing it under the digitally created lights. When she opened it, Ruth gasped so loudly the sound might have been audible - inside she recognized the packages she herself had wrapped so carefully all those years ago.

Brennan withdrew the card and one package and carried it to the sofa. Ruth followed her, settling in beside her daughter when she opened the envelope first. Ruth looked regretfully at the simple greeting, remembering when she'd so casually scrawled a plain, _Much __love__, __Mom __and __Dad_ across the surface.

"If I'd known that would be the last thing I ever wrote to you, honey," she whispered into the silence, "I would have said so much more."

Brennan stared at the card for a long moment before carefully setting it aside, reaching for the package. Painstakingly she opened the silly paper just enough so she could pull the white box inside free. She turned it in her hands for several seconds before, taking a deep breath, she tugged it open and stared down at the gift her mother had bought so long ago for the teenage girl she used to be. A sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh escaped; after a brief struggle for control, she gave up and allowed the waves of emotion to overflow into tears.

Beside her, unseen and unnoticed, her mother cried, too.

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><p>.<p>

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><p><em>So for those playing along at home, there are references here to <em>Man in the Wall, Man on Death Row, The Girl in the Fridge _and, of course, _The Man in the Fallout Shelter. _And because I think of all of my stories as inhabiting the same universe, you might also have noticed that I snuck in a mention of the Guide and the 'others' from Unseen. You'll see them again, because they're part of Ruth's story. _

_Oooh, look - there's a fancy new "review" button. I wonder if it works . . . . :-D  
><em>

_Thanks for reading!  
><em>


	16. All's Fair in Love

_AN: It never fails. No sooner do I hit "publish" than I immediately think "Crap! I forgot to . . . " and have to go back and add/edit/whatever. In this case, I forgot to thank the mostest excellentest Penandra for her help reading over the beginning stages of this chapter for me. Considering how long it took me to get this chapter written, her beta work was so long ago she probably thought I'd just blown the whole thing up but, no such luck. Penny, as always my bits-and-bytes friend, your help and suggestions are always very helpful and so much appreciated! Thank you! . . . . . . MJ_

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><p>.<p>

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"We have a problem."

Ruth looked up in surprise when Milly burst into Booth's office, looking at the empty doorway behind her. "What problem? Where's Tempe?"

"Back at the lab." She paused dramatically. "Micah's here."

"Oh now he shows up?" Ruth asked irritably. "Where was he when-" Ruth's eyes widened. "What? Micah's here? And you left Tempe alone? What if something awful happens?" She stood up suddenly, knocking papers from a small table onto the floor. Seated at his desk, Booth frowned at the mess then glared at the air conditioning vent in his ceiling. "Why is he here? What's wrong?"

"I don't know why he's here but they just delivered a guy who washed up out of the Chesapeake Bay with cement blocks on his feet. It can't be a coincidence." Milly grabbed Ruth's arm. "Come on," she tugged. "We have to find out what's going on."

Ruth glanced back at Booth, who was busy picking up the papers she'd sent flying. "What about Seeley-"

"Did you hear me?" Milly yelled. "Dead guy? Cement shoes? Seeley will get there eventually. Come on!"

.

.

.

"Eww, that's disgusting," Ruth murmured when Milly pulled her past the group laying out the corpse on the platform.

"Yea, yea, it's gross," Milly muttered without looking over, pausing with hands balled on her hips as she searched the room. "Where did he . . . There!" She pointed down the hallway. "Micah!" she yelled as she rushed over. "Micah! Stop!"

Ruth took one last look at the remains before hurrying to catch up. "Where is he? I don't see-" The short, balding security guard walking a few paces ahead of them turned around with a huff, glared at Milly then opened the door to a small office and furtively waved them inside. Ruth looked from him to Milly in confusion. "Who is that? Can he see us? Milly," she whispered urgently, "I think he can see us!"

"Of course he can see us, it's Micah."

He rolled his eyes and spoke over Milly. "Of course I can see you, but I can't very well talk to you out in the open - you want these people to think I'm crazy?"

"I . . . I don't understand," Ruth stuttered, trying and failing to grasp the details as he shut the door behind them. "Micah is . . ." She lifted her hand high in the air, "and you're . . ." She hesitated, letting her voice trail off as her hand fell.

"You got something against short people?" Micah asked archly. When she immediately began shaking her head and stammering out apologies, he waved her to silence. "I can't look like myself around the living," he pointed out patiently. "I'm too noticeable. In this body," he brushed a hand over his tie, "no one pays any attention to me."

"Excuse me," Milly broke in impatiently, scowling at both of them. "If you two are through swapping beauty tips maybe we can talk about what's important - like WHERE THE HECK HAVE YOU BEEN!"

Micah lifted his chin disdainfully. "What's that supposed to-"

"Where were you when Seeley went into that warehouse after that kid?" Milly demanded. "There were bullets everywhere - he could have been hurt!"

Ruth's irritation elbowed aside her confusion. "And Tempe was waiting outside, too!" she interjected loudly. "If someone had shot through a wall . . ."

"The boy's Guardian was there, I didn't need to . . ." Micah began.

"And that guy with the tattoos!" Milly was just getting warmed up. "He put a hit . . "

"A hit!" Ruth interrupted hotly, staring at Micah. "He put a hit out on my baby - she could have been killed! And you were nowhere around!" she added, poking a finger into his chest.

"The gang leader wasn't -"

"That's right," Milly nodded repeatedly. "Tempe would be dead if Seeley hadn't chased that guy down - which put HIM in danger, too! He did your job for you, going after that guy!" Milly advanced on him furiously.

"He wasn't in any -"

"We're working our fingers to the bone trying to get them back together - do we have to be their Guardian Angels, too?" Ruth huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "What are you doing, hanging out with your book club and eating more cookies?" She cast a scathing glance over his new figure. "Frankly, I think you might want to hold off on the cookies for a while."

"ENOUGH!" In an instant, Micah's disguise faded away; he stretched to his full, intimidating height and glared down at the irate mothers, silencing their complaints immediately. "Working your fingers to the bone?" he sneered. "You've been here almost two years and what kind of progress have you made?" he asked bitingly. "None!"

The two women shared an uncomfortable glance.

"Well, that's kind of harsh," Milly mumbled.

"It's harder than we expected it would be," Ruth whined. "They're stubborn . . ."

"And we have made some progress," Milly added. "Ruth got rid of the girlfriend . . ."

"They had that really nice dinner in California, remember?" Ruth pointed out helpfully.

"They split the check." Micah folded his arms over his muscled chest.

"Well . . . that was for the expense report," Ruth muttered, rubbing her toe into the carpet.

"Wait! They were teasing one another about missing each other!" Milly exclaimed. "Seeley said she could call him and they'd do lunch!"

"He called her Temperance!"  
>"She pinched his cheek!"<br>"He used his charm smile on her!"

"Well, hallelujah!" Micah said sarcastically. "Somebody call the preacher and order the cake - he used her name and she pinched his cheek - it's love!"

Milly pouted. "Now you're just being mean."

"I am not being -" Micah stopped, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "What I'm saying is that maybe you two need to focus more on them instead of your own problems . . ."

Ruth gasped. "That's not fair. All we do is think about them!"

Micah raised an eyebrow. "Really? Then why do you keep hiding the file on you and your husband that your daughter wanted Seeley to look at?"

Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly several times. "You know about that?" she finally croaked.

He lifted an eyebrow sardonically.

Ruth avoided Milly's gaze. "Well . . . that's different," she managed. "I don't want Tempe to know . . . she doesn't need to . . . Seeley might find out about . . ." She changed the subject abruptly. "Why are you here, anyway? You never said."

Micah smirked with triumph but answered. "I might be needed," he said. "There is darkness around both of them right now. It may be nothing, it may be something." He shrugged. "That is why I am here."

"Darkness around them? And you're just now telling us?" Ruth's eyes grew round. "Milly," she said fiercely, "you have to stay with Tempe! Don't leave her. I'll get back to Seeley." She headed for the door. "Stay with Tempe," she ordered again and was gone.

"Was that necessary?" Milly asked pointedly when she and Micah were alone. "You've terrified the poor woman." She moved to follow Ruth and found her arm held securely.

"You could do with a bit of fear yourself," Micah responded, staring at her intently. "What do you think you're doing, Milly?"

"I'm just going to see what Tempe is do-" She caught the expression in his eyes and closed her mouth with a snap, jerking her arm out of his grip. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play that with me!" he shot back.

She refused to meet his eyes.

"I've seen him here. With you." He leaned forward and whispered as if he were afraid of being overheard.

She hugged her arms to her waist and avoided his gaze, chewing on her bottom lip. "Does anyone else know?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

He held his silence until she looked at him. "No. Not yet. But they will," he warned. "It's only a matter of time before someone else notices. Right now it's just me because I'm always watching those two," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "They cause me enough trouble, as it is I barely get a minute's rest . . ." He cut off the complaint when she rolled her eyes at him. "I wasn't even sure what I was seeing," he admitted, pausing to stare at her meaningfully. "Until now."

She looked away again and hugged herself tighter. "It's nothing," she mumbled. "We're just - friends. He's just . . . he's just helping. It's nothing."

He gave a bark of humourless laughter. "This nothing is a whole lot of something," he retorted. "There are consequences, Milly," he said softly, looking at her with something akin to pity. "And you won't be the one who faces them. He could lose -"

Her eyes shot to his, wide and afraid, her face pale. "I don't know what you're talking about," she interrupted, backing away. "I need to check on Tempe," she choked out and slipped from the room before he could follow her.

He stared at the closed door, shaking his head in dismay. "Nothing like this ever happens in the Q's."

.

.

.

Ruth hadn't made it very far; when Milly reached the platform the other woman was just a few steps above her staring intently at their children. She looked over her shoulder as Milly approached.

"What's online dating?"

"Huh?"

"Seeley just asked Tempe if she was doing it. What is it?"

Milly tried to gather her scattered thoughts. "Oh, um . . . I don't really know, it's . . . something on Tempe's computer. Angela told her about it. I think it's, like, you describe your perfect date and they send you one."

Ruth's jaw dropped. "Why is Tempe looking on her computer for the perfect date? She has one right here!" She waved a hand at Booth.

"Yea, I know," Milly nodded. "I don't understand it either," she shrugged. "Maybe I'm wrong . . . I might have misunderstood . . ." Her voice trailed off.

Ruth's ire changed to concern. "Are you okay?"

"What?" Milly blinked and tried again to focus.

"You look blindsided. Did Micah tell you something else?" Ruth gripped her arm. "Did he tell you more about this darkness around the kids?"

"No," Milly shook her head. "No, that's not . . ." She sighed and with great effort, composed herself. "Micah was just being dramatic. He probably didn't mean . . ." Her voice froze in her throat. "Ruth," she whispered. "Look at him."

Ruth followed her line of vision to the man who'd accompanied Booth up the platform. "What is that?" The two of them stared in horror at the black mist seeping from the tall stranger.

"His soul is dead." Micah stood behind them, still in his own form. His narrowed eyes were focused on the other man. "He is beyond your assistance," he told Ruth pointedly. "If his body dies in your presence, do not approach him." She nodded rapidly, accepting the instruction. "My worry was justified. Stay with your children," he ordered both of them. "If you can prevent it, don't allow either one to be alone with him if I'm not with you."

"_. . . __we __found __someone __tortured __and __ripped __apart __by __dogs__," __Booth__'__s __voice __broke __into __the __shocked __silence that followed __Micah__'__s __stern __words__. "__Get __your __doodads __and __let__'__s __go__. __Chop __chop__!" __he __clapped__. __Brennan __tossed __an __aggrieved __glance __in __his __direction __and __made __her __way __off __the __platform__. "__You __might __need __the __kid__, __too__," __he __called __after __her__, __jerking __his __head __in __Zach__'__s __direction__. _

"_But __Dr__. __Brennan __instructed __me __to __clean __these __bones __and __take __x__-__rays__," __Zach __began __to __protest__._

_Brennan __considered __for __a __moment__. "__I __will __speak __to __one __of __the __technicians__," __she __said __finally__. "__They __can __get __started __and __you __can __finish __when __we __return __from __the __crime __scene__."_

Ruth groaned. "Tortured and ripped apart? Why can't they ever find someone who died peacefully in his sleep?"

.

.

.

"How could anyone do that to another human being?" Ruth turned her back on the remains of the young girl hanging from a pole. "It's awful."

Milly nodded. "Seeing something like this makes me even more proud of what the kids do, you know?" She winced at the noise coming from the dogs. "They catch these people, stop them before they can hurt someone else."

"Mmm." Ruth glanced at her. "That guy this morning - have you ever seen anything like that before?"

"I don't think so," Milly shook her head. "I thought I saw something fuzzy around the guy in jail, remember him? The one on death row? But he gave me the creeps so I didn't really look at him all that close."

"Is there . . ." Ruth hesitated. "Do you see anything like that around me?"

"What?" Stunned, Milly stared at her friend. "Of course not! Why would you even worry about that?"

Ruth shrugged self-consciously. "I don't know - Max and I, well . . . you know."

"Ruth," Milly said firmly, "You made it home. Okay, you made some mistakes, but it takes more than that to kill your soul. Look at Seeley," she pointed to where her son stood watching as Brennan answered her phone. "Look at what he's had to do and his is fine."

_Brennan __finished __her __phone __call __and __turned __back __to __Booth__. "__My __reservation __just __got __pushed __so __I __have __a __few __extra __minutes__," __she __told __him__. _

"_Oh__, __a __few __extra __minutes__," __he __sneered__. "__Great__."_

"Micah's wrong," Ruth said softly, her eyes on Booth.

"What?" Startled to hear her own confused jumble of private thoughts spoken out loud, Milly jerked back.

"We have made progress," Ruth answered. Watching Booth and Brennan argue she didn't see Milly's shoulders slump in relief. "Look at him - he's jealous. She has a date and he's jealous. That's progress - especially for these two."

" _. . . __I __think __I __can __handle __meeting __someone __for __dinner__," __Brennan __insisted__. _

"_Fine__," __Booth __responded __sharply__. "__You __know __what__? __You __have __fun __with __Dick__431 __or __whatever __his __handle __is__."_

_Ignored__, __Zach __listened __avidly __and __continued __to __collect __samples __from __the __area __surrounding __the __remains__, __glancing __at __the __two __of __them __as __he __worked__._

"_Yeah__, __I __will__," __Brennan __answered__, __her __chin __jutting __out __stubbornly__. _

"_Good__," __he __snapped__._

"_Thanks__." __She __pursed __her __lips __and __glared __back__. _

"_Fine__." __He __turned __his __back __on __her __and __paced __a __few __steps __away__, __steam __almost __visibly __rising __from __his __hunched __shoulders__._

"_Good__." __Determined __to __ignore __him__, __she __clicked __her __recorder __on__. "__Victim __is __female__, __late __teens __to __mid __twenties__ . . ."_

"You know," Ruth chuckled, "if it wasn't part of the problem, watching them fight like this would be funny."

"Yea," Milly muttered. "It's hilarious."

_The __partners __continued __to __exchange __insults __while __Brennan __examined __the __body until finally, __she __removed __her __gloves __with __a __snap__. _"_I__'__ve __done __all __I __can __here__. __Zach__, __do __you __mind __riding __back __to __the __lab __with __the __remains__? __I __need __to __change __for __dinner__."_

"_Yea__," __Booth __muttered __from __his __place __in __the __corner__. "__I__'__m __sure __you __need __to __get __all __dressed __up __for __LoverBoy__151."_

"_That __is __not __his __name__," __Brennan __said __stubbornly__. _

"_Whatever__."_

"_And __I__'__m __not __getting __dressed __up__," __she __argued__. "__I__'__m __changing __back __into __what __I __wore __earlier __today__."_

"_Oh__." __He __shrugged__, __resettling __his __wide __shoulders__. "__Well__ . . . __good__." __He __cleared __his __throat__. "__Where __are __you __meeting __him__?"_

"_Nolita__'__s __on __K __Street__. __Why__?" __she __asked __suspiciously__._

"_You__'__re __meeting __someone __you __don__'__t __know__, __someone __you __met __on __the __internet__, __Bones__." __He __spoke __slowly__, __as __if __he __were __talking __to __a __recalcitrant __child__. "__Someone __should __know __where __you__'__re __going __to __be__."_

"_I__'__m __fully __cognizant __of __basic __safety __precautions__, __Booth__," __she __snapped __back__, __offended__. "__I __informed __Angela __of __my __plans__."_

"_Fine__," __he __bit __out__. "__At __least __someone __knows __where __you__'__re __going __to __be__."_

"_I__'__m __capable __of __taking __care __of __myself__." __She __faced __him __angrily__, __hands __on __her __hips__._

"_So __go __take __care __of __yourself __then__," __he __said __shortly__._

"_I __will__."_

"_Fine__."_

"_Oooooh__ . . ." __she __growled __then __spun __away __and __marched __out __of __the __warehouse__. _

Milly watched her go. "I guess we're leaving," she pulled a face.

"Stay with her, Milly," Ruth pleaded. "Please watch out for her."

"I will," Milly assured her. "You stick close to Seeley."

.

.

.

A short while later, Milly was beside Brennan when her phone rang as she approached the restaurant.

_She __glanced __at __the __display__. "__David__," __she __said __as __she __answered__. "__Hi__."_

In the next blink, Micah was at her elbow, his immense form standing protectively over her. He pointed at Milly. "Stay back," he ordered in voice that brooked no opposition.

"_. . . __can __be __brutal__," __Brennan __was __saying__. "__Okay__," __she __nodded__. "__Bye__."_

After a look over his shoulder at the cars whizzing by, Micah slapped the phone out of Brennan's hand. No sooner had she bent to retrieve it than three quick pops reverberated in the night. Glass in a shop window exploded near her head.

"What . . .!" Milly yelled, looking around. "That sounded like gunfire!'

Micah muttered beneath his breath when Brennan straightened, looking toward the source of the gunshots in confusion. Quickly, he hooked a hard arm around her waist and pulled her toward him. She stumbled backward, falling awkwardly as yet more shots rang out until she finally took shelter behind a parked car. Out in the street, the screaming of tires announced a vehicle speeding away.

Milly hovered over her protectively. "Are you okay?" she asked, forgetting for a moment that Brennan couldn't hear her. "Micah?" Her head swiveled as she searched for the Guardian.

"Tempe!" Ruth was there, kneeling beside her daughter. "Is she okay? Did she get hit?" she asked Milly frantically.

"No, Micah was here, I don't know where he went -"

"_Bones__!" __Booth __crouched __beside __Brennan__. "__Are __you __hurt__? __Did __you __get __hit__?"_

"_No__, __I__'__m __fine__," __she __answered__, __still visibly __shaken__. "__I __dropped __my __phone __and__ . . ."_

"How did you get here so fast?" Milly asked, watching Booth help Brennan to her feet. "Did you see who shot at her?"

"Well, I did," Ruth nodded. "It was that other agent - I don't know if Seeley saw him, though." She pointed behind her. "We were just down the street when we heard the shots . . ."

"_Why __are __you __here__?" __Brennan __brushed __aside __Booth__'__s __helpful __hands__. "__Were __you __following __me__?"_

"Was he following her?" Milly stared from one to the other.

"Of course he was following her," Ruth answered. "She could have been meeting some psycho."

"_Of __course __not__," __Booth __shook __his __head __quickly__. "__I __was __just __headed __back __to __the __office __when __I __heard __the __shots__." __He __avoided __her __gaze __and __turned __to __one __of__ the __uniformed __officers __who__'__d __appeared __on __the __scene__. "__Special __Agent __Seeley __Booth__, __FBI__," __he __said__, __pulling __out __his __badge__. "__I __want __every __bullet __found__, __bagged __and __tagged __and __sent __to __my __attention__. __Check __over __there__," __he __pointed __out __into __the __street__. "__The __vehicle __sped __away __from __that __spot__, __see __if __there __are __any __casings __in __the __street__." __He __gripped __Brennan__'__s __elbow__. "__You __are __going __to __sit __in __my __car __and __wait __for __me__."_

"_What__? __Why__? __I __didn__'__t __see __anything__!"_

"_Bones__, __someone __just __took __a __shot __at __you__," __he __pinned __her __down __with __a __hard __stare__. "__You __may __have __seen __more __than __you __realized__." __He __opened __the __passenger __side __door __of __his __SUV __and __all __but __shoved __her __inside__. "__Wait __here__, __I__'__ll __be __right __back__," __he __ordered__. _

.

.

.

Milly paced the platform angrily. "I can't believe you just left!" She sent a furious look toward where Brennan stood with the rest of her team. "You are going to be in so much trouble!" The sound of a phone ringing drew everyone's attention.

"_That__'__s __probably __Booth __calling__ - __again__," __Angela __murmured__. "__Don__'__t __you __think __you __should __answer __it__, __sweetie__?"_

"_He __knows __where __I __am__," __Brennan shook her head__. "__I __left __him __a __note__. __Zach__," __she __continued__, "__I__'__ll __need __enlargements __of __the __super__orbital __notch__ . . . "_

"Left him a note," Milly repeated, shaking her head. "He told you to wait in his car and you left him a note. You know what it is," she spoke directly to Brennan as if the other woman could hear her. "You weren't spanked enough as a child. And don't think I won't talk to Ruth about it!"

"Talk to me about what?" Ruth was just entering the lab area.

"About not disciplining her as a child!" She tossed another irritated glance at Brennan. "A couple of good swats on the diaper and maybe she'd listen better now."

Ruth humoured her with a smile. "She was always a very well-behaved little girl."

Milly snorted. "Well that's certainly not the case now. Where's Seeley?"

"Parking. He's through yelling at everyone in his office, now he can yell at everyone here."

"_Bones__!" __Booth __stalked __through __the __double __doors__. "__What __the __hell __are __you __doing__?"_

"Yell louder," Milly muttered. "She needs it."

"Tempe might be doing some yelling of her own," Ruth hinted, "when she finds out what he did."

"What did he do?"

Ruth leaned over and spoke in a whisper. "That guy she was going to meet? He's having him brought in for questioning."

.

.

.

"I don't like him," Ruth stared stonily at the young man waiting in the interrogation room.

Milly hid a smile. "I think we've established that whenever Tempe meets someone new, you don't like him."

Ruth's lips quirked. "I like Seeley."

"Of course," his mother agreed. "What's not to like?"

_Booth __leaned __on __the __table __threateningly__. "__So __are __you __saying __that __you __were __stuck __in __traffic__?" __he __asked__, __his __disbelief __apparent__._

"Seeley doesn't like him either," Ruth stated with satisfaction.

Milly considered the other man. "He's got a big head."

"Beady eyes."

"And what's with the hair?"

"Does he even own a comb?"

"And look at those sideburns!" Milly snorted. "Sideburns went out when," she laughed, "well, when I did!"

_At __the __door__, __David __turned __back__. " . . . __maybe __we __could __reschedule __dinner__?" __he __asked __Brennan__._

"I've been talking to someone who died in the IRS building," Ruth said, staring at him with narrowed eyes. "Maybe we could have him audited."

"_Sure__," __Brennan __agreed__, __smiling __back __at __him__._

"Yea," Milly said. "Let's do that."

.

.

.

"This is the first time I've felt safe in days." Ruth heaved a sigh of relief as she and Milly slipped into Brennan's apartment behind her. "It's not like I didn't appreciate that Seeley's job was dangerous but with all that black misty stuff around the FBI guy and the creepy key guy and Micah patrolling the lab - I feel like we've been walking on the edge of a knife."

"You have no idea," Milly murmured, closing her eyes as she sank into Brennan's sofa.

Ruth almost ran Brennan over when her daughter came to an unexpected stop.

"_You __think __you__'__re __staying __here __with __me__?" __She __stared __at __Booth __in __surprise__._

"Well, this has potential," Ruth raised her eyebrows at Milly.

She yawned. "Not when he finds out she doesn't have a TV."

"That's even better," Ruth exclaimed. "They'll have to sit and talk . . . that could be good!"

"They'll find a way to mess it up, trust me."

"Oh, come on, Milly. Have a little faith."

Milly cracked open one eye. "We've been with them for almost two years. I have faith they'll screw it up."

_Brennan __looked __on __somewhat __uncertainly __as __Booth __approached __her __CDs__. "__Music__," __he __said__, __snapping __his __fingers__. "__Whatda __we __got__, __Bones__?" __The __discs __clattered __together __as __he __thumbed __through __them__. "__Wow__ . . . __world __music__." __He __picked __out __one __jewel __case__. "__Oh__, __there__'__s __a __shock__. __Tibetan __throat __singers__. __Rock __on__, __Bones__."_

Milly groaned. "Oh no, please not that one. It's just a bunch of grunting . . ."

_Booth __moved __to __the __other __side __and __examined __the __rest __of __her __collection__. "__Kanye __West__, __Cat __Power__," __he __murmured__, "__Oh__! __Oh__, __look __at __this__!" __he __exclaimed__. "__Man__, __lots __of __jazz__!" __He __glanced __at __her__. "__Wow__, __I__'__d __think __all __that __free __form __stuff __would __be __a __little __too __unpredictable __for __you__." _

_Brennan __shook __her __head__, __stepping __closer __with a look of __real __interest__. "__No__," __she __insisted__. "__I __love __it__. __The __artist __has __to __live __within __a __set __tonal __structure__ . . ."_

"I told you they wouldn't screw it up!" Ruth smiled happily. She slapped Milly's arm. "Look at them - they're making a connection!"

"I'm looking, I'm looking." Milly sat up. "You could be right. This is good!" At that moment, Booth reached around Brennan.

"_Whoa__, __what__'__s __this__?" __he __asked__, __laughing __as __he __picked __up __a __CD__._

_Brennan __tried __to __peep __over __his __shoulder__. "__What __is __it__?"_

"_Nice__," __he __smiled __and __loaded __the __CD __in __the __stereo__. _

"_Booth__ . . ." __she __grimaced__, __embarrassed__. __When __the __heavy __guitar __riff __began__, __she __picked __up __the __CD __case__. "__How __did __that __get __there__?" __she __mumbled__._

Ruth perched on the arm of the sofa next to Milly, a wide smile on her face as she watched Booth play air guitar with the song. "This is cute!" She nudged Milly and bopped her head with the music. "They're having fun!" She laughed out loud when Brennan kicked out playfully.

Milly chuckled, too. "Maybe you should get out there and dance with them?"

_Brennan__'__s __phone __rang__, __interrupting __her __impromptu __dance __with __Booth __as __she __raced __to __grab __it__. _

"_Brennan__," __she __said __loudly__, __covering __one __ear __as __she __tried __to __hear __the __voice __on __the __other __end __of __the __receiver__. "__David__, __hi__!"_

"Ugh," Ruth complained. "It figures he would call and ruin their moment! I knew I didn't like him!"

"I'm sure he would be very sad to hear that," an acerbic voice interrupted the music.

"Micah!" "We thought you left!" The women exclaimed over each other.

"Where did you go after Tempe was shot at?" Ruth asked. "I wanted to say thank you."

The Guardian rolled his eyes as Booth played air drums over Brennan's phone call. "I have other charges to oversee," he grumbled. "No one believes me when I tell them that watching these two is a full-time job all by itself."

"Why are you here?" Milly sat up abruptly. "It's Tempe's apartment - they should be safe here, right?"

"There is danger nearby," he replied. "I can feel it."

"_Hey__, __you __got __a __soda__, __some __juice__?" __Booth__'__s __question sounded extraordinarily loud in Milly and Ruth's shocked silence._

"_Yea__," __Brennan __laughed __at __him__. "__I__'__ll __get __it__."  
><em>

"_No __no __no__," __Booth __stepped __into __her __path__. "__You __know __what__, __I__'__m __not __your __guest__. __You __don__'__t __have __to __wait __on __me__. __I__'__ll __get __it__." __He __hurried __toward __her __kitchen__, __turning __back __briefly__. "__You __want __anything__?"_

Micah's sharp eyes went from Brennan to Booth and then into the kitchen. His eyes narrowed to slits before he was instantly in front of Booth.

"Micah?" Milly stood up, suddenly afraid.

"What's going on?" Ruth asked nervously.

Milly stepped toward the kitchen in time to see Micah place himself between Booth and the refrigerator; just as he tugged the door open Micah shoved him back, away from the loud explosion that tore through the apartment.

"SEELEY!" Milly screamed, rushing to his side as Brennan grabbed the blanket from the sofa and ran to him.

"Milly!" Micah picked her up easily and settled her away from Booth as Brennan threw the blanket over him and began beating out the flames alight on his clothes. "Millicent!" he yelled when she tried to rush back to his side. "Give Temperance room to work!"

"Oh no . . ." Ruth watched helplessly as Brennan tossed aside the refrigerator door that had fallen on top of Booth. "Is he okay? Micah, is he okay?"

"He's hurt," the Guardian responded shortly. "Milly!" He shook her hard, forcing her to look at him. "He's hurt but he will survive."

She threw her arms around his waist. "Thank you, Micah! I don't know what I would have done if . . . thank you!"

_Satisfied __she__'__d __smothered __all __of __the __active __flames __Brennan __ran __for __her __phone__, __dialing __as __she __hurried __back __to __Booth__. "__My __name __is __Dr__. __Temperance __Brennan__," __she __said __when __the __call __was __answered__. "__I__'__ve __just __had __an __explosion __in __my __apartment__." __She __gave __her __address__, __repeating __it __twice__. "__There__'__s __a __man __injured__ - __I __need __an __ambulance __right __away__ . . ." _

Ruth pulled Milly into a tight embrace. "He's going to be okay, honey, he's going to be okay," she repeated, rubbing soothing circles on the other woman's back. Unnoticed, Micah stepped back out of their line of vision and disappeared.

Milly closed her eyes. "I hate not being able to do anything to help!"

"_He__'__s __an __FBI __Agent__, __Special __Agent __Seeley __Booth__," __Brennan __was __saying__. "__I __need __an __ambulance__ - __he __may __have __internal __injuries - there are burns__" __she __repeated __urgently__. "__And __you __should __notify __the __FBI__ . . . " __She __broke __off __as __a __faint __moan __escaped __him__. "__No__, __I __can__'__t __stay __on __the __line__! __Get __an __ambulance __here __now__!" __She __dropped __the __phone__. "__Booth__ . . . __Booth__!" __she __repeated __frantically__. "__You__'__re __going __to __be __fine__ - __help __is __on __the __way__." _

"He's going to be okay." Ruth repeated the words like a mantra, she and Milly clinging helplessly to each other. "He's going to be okay."

.

.

.

.

Ruth was pacing outside Booth's hospital room when Milly arrived with Brennan.

"Oh, you're here!" she said, her relief apparent when Brennan stopped at the nurses desk. Waiting for the woman to look at her, Brennan picked up a stiff green file and opened it. "What took so long?" Ruth asked as Brennan began arguing with the nurse over being allowed to see Booth, holding the file out of reach when the nurse tried to take it from her.

"_Bones__ . . ." __Brennan__'__s __head __turned __in __the __direction __of __Booth__'__s __voice__. __Ignoring __the __still __protesting __nurse__, __she __simply __spun __away __and __followed __the __weakened __sound __to __his __room__, __the __file __still __in __her __hand__._

"She wouldn't leave while the police were gathering evidence," Milly murmured as she stepped just inside the room, wincing at the sight of her son's battered body. "I thought one of them was going to punch her." She approached the bed carefully. "Oh, sweetheart," she whispered.

Ruth hesitated then spoke in a rush. "I don't want to pile on, Milly, but he called that Kenton guy to come get her."

Milly looked at her in horror. "She can't go with him!"

"I know," Ruth nodded. "What are we going to do?"

"_I __don__'__t __even __know __if__ . . . __if __I __have __to __stay __here__," __Booth __was __saying__, __his __voice __weak __and __broken__. _

"Yes, you have to stay here!" Milly insisted loudly, not caring that her son was beyond hearing her.

"_You __got __blown __up__," __Brennan __pointed __out __obviously__._

"It's okay, honey," Ruth soothed. "Tempe will take care of him."

"_I__'__ve __been __worse__." __His __attempt __at __bravado __was __somewhat __undermined __by __a __pain__-__filled __grimace__. _

"_You have burns, lacerations," Brennan recited clinically. "Two broken ribs, __green-stick__ fracture of the clavicle . . ." she continued._

"_Okay__, __I __got __blown __up__." __Booth __interrupted __the __list __of __his __injuries__._

Milly's hand flew to her mouth, smothering the release of her cry.

"It's okay," Ruth said again. "The doctor said he'll be fine. It will take time but he'll be fine." They watched as Booth reached for one of the pudding cups on his tray, wincing as he tried to stretch his arm. Milly instinctively rushed forward to help.

"_Can __you__ . . ." __Booth __whimpered__, __gesturing__, "__Can __you __hand __me __one __of __the __puddings__?" __Brennan __hid __a __smile __when __she __stood __up __to __help__. "__Thanks__, __Bones__," __he __managed __when __she __handed __him __an __opened __cup__. "__Look __at __that__."_

_Brennan __watched __as __he __dipped __his __spoon __into __the __pudding__, __hesitated __briefly __and __then __reached __for __the __file __she__'__d __brought __in __with __her__. "__You __know__, __on __your __X__-__rays __there__'__s __a __history __of__ . . . "_

Ruth's eyes widened. "Milly!" she spoke loudly, covering up Brennan's voice. "Kenton," she added, dragging Milly back from the bed and distracting her from the conversation taking place there. "What are we going to do about him? How can we stop Tempe from going with him?"

"I don't know." Milly rubbed at her temples. "It's too much - Tempe gets shot at and Seeley gets blown up and this guy with a dead soul is still walking around . . ." Her shoulders slumped with fatigue. "I understand why Micah is always complaining now," she closed her eyes and hugged herself tightly. "Why couldn't we have just set them up on a couple of nice dinners and watched them fall in love the easy way?"

Ruth looked in horror over her shoulder. "He's here, Milly. He's here."

"_You __look __like __crap__," __Kenton __walked __up __to __the __bed__._

"What does he drive?" Ruth asked. "Maybe we can flatten his tires."

"_Stick __with __her__," __Booth __ordered__, __his __voice __stronger __than __it __had __been__._

"No!" Ruth disagreed loudly.

"_Yeah__," __Kenton __nodded__. "__If __you __want __me __to__."_

"_Don__'__t __you __think __I __should __be __consulted__?" __Brennan __asked __with __a __pointed __glance __at __Booth__._

"Yes!" Milly shouted. "Say no!"

"_No__," __Booth __answered __immediately__. "__Keep __her __close__," __he __told __Kenton __again__._

"No!" Milly and Ruth yelled together.

"_Excuse __me__." __A __scrubs__-__clad __nurse __stood __in __the __doorway __frowning __into __the __room__. "__Mr__. __Booth __should __be __resting__. __I __am __going __to __have __to __ask __you __both __to __leave__."_

"No. No." Ruth shook her head and hurried to Brennan's side. "No. You can't go with him, baby."

"_Kenton__," __Booth __held __the __other __agent__'__s __gaze __for __a __long__, __silent __moment __that __ended __when __Kenton __nodded __briefly__._

"Milly?" Ruth pleaded as Brennan said her goodbyes.

She tried to smile and put on a brave face. "I'll stay as close as I can," she tried to comfort the other woman. "I'm sure it will be fine. She'll be fine. What else could happen, right?"

.

.

.

"You . . . you bastard," Milly hissed as she hovered close to Kenton, watching carefully as he prowled Angela's office and peered at computer screens. A sharp crack of thunder sounded overhead. "I don't care!" she yelled to the ceiling. "I won't let him hurt her!"

"Millicent."

She pivoted swiftly toward the rich baritone voice. "I don't care!" she repeated. "Look at him!" She pointed to the seat Kenton finally took next to Angela.

"_We__'__ll __talk __later__," __Angela __said__._

"He's evil," Milly whispered in horror, "and no one can see it! No one can see that his soul is dead." She turned to Raphael with tears in her eyes. "He wants to kill her, Raf. He's tried twice already - he shot at her and he rigged that bomb in her fridge and Seeley almost-" She choked off the words. "I don't know how to stop him from trying again." A thought occurred to her. "Can you . . ."

He was already shaking his head. "I cannot." He reached for her hand. "She will need you, Millicent. Your anger will not help her. You must be calm and strong.

His fingers closed around hers; she clung to them gratefully as a wave of warmth filled her with strength and comfort. Suddenly she gasped and jerked away from his hold as she stepped back from him. "You can't be here," she told him, clutching the hand that still held the imprint of his to her chest and shaking her head violently. "Micah said . . ."

He stretched to his full height and stared down at her imperiously. "I do not answer to the Guardian." He held her gaze with the cloudless sky of his eyes. "Nor do you."

" _. . . __the __sulfur __manufactured __by __the __chemical __company __Hollings __works __for__."_ Hodgins' voice fell like stones into the silence that hung between them.

_Kenton __pulled __out __his __cell __phone__. "__I__'__ll __have __a __team __meet __us __at __his __apartment__." __He __walked __away __barking __into __his __phone__. "__This __is __Special __Agent __Jamie __Kenton__. __I __have __reason __to __believe __a __suspected __murderer__ . . ."_

Milly looked at Kenton and tried to focus on the black shadow that surrounded him but all she could hear were Micah's words. _"__There __are __consequences__ . . ." _ Her head began to shake again. "You . . . you . . ." she swallowed and tried to compose herself. "You can't be here," she repeated. "You can't." She let her arms fall to her side, hands clenched into fists and avoided looking at him, afraid of what her expression might reveal. "You can't."

" _. . . __it __would __be __safer __if __you __remained __here__, __Dr__. __Brennan__." __Zach __stepped __close __to __his __mentor __and __spoke __urgently__. _

"Tell me to go."

She flinched when his low voice reached her then squared her shoulders, firmed her chin and turned to face him. She looked up at him, her lips parting as the words formed . . .

. . . and couldn't speak. In the clear blue eyes that watched her so carefully she saw the same clash of emotions that warred within her, the same battle between fear and hope and uncertainty. For a single fraction of a moment in time, time stood still.

Her shoulders slumped; she blinked away the sudden rush of tears. "I can't," she whispered, her words barely audible.

His chest rose with the deep breath he took, the barest hint of a smile that touched his mouth standing in stark contrast to the bright happiness that flared in his eyes. Silently he held out a hand, palm up. Without hesitating, she took two steps forward and let her fingers rest gently on his.

" _. . . __might __overlook __something__," __Brennan __said__. "__Besides__, __Booth __told __me __to __stay __with __Kenton__."_

"_He __did__," __the __agent __nodded__. "__I__'__ll __keep __an __eye __on __her__. __If __you__'__re __ready__, __Dr__. __Brennan__?" __He __gestured __toward __the __door__._

Milly pulled her eyes away from Raphael and watched as Brennan gathered her things. "I have to go with her," she said, looking back at him.

He inclined his head, squeezing her fingers once more. "She will need you. You must remain calm and strong."

"Right," she nodded, "Calm and strong. I will." She let her hand slip from his as she chased after Brennan. When she paused at the door for a last look back, he was gone.

.

.

.

.

"Calm and strong," she told herself, repeating the words over and over as Brennan and Kenton, with the team of FBI agents, searched Hollings apartment. "Calm and strong." When she found her wayward thoughts veering away from Brennan, she jerked herself back on track determinedly. "Calm and strong. You can think about . . . about other stuff later, when Tempe's safe. Calm and strong. Calm and strong."

_Brennan __searched __through __a __small __bureau and held __up __a __folded __map __with __gloved __hands__. "__He __marked __the __same __part __of __town __we __found __the __other __victim__," __she __said__. _

"Oh, you did that," Milly stared at Kenton. "You set this up, you ba-" She glanced warily at the ceiling. "You jerk. I know what you're doing. I know!" Brennan's phone rang. "Calm and strong," Milly repeated again, breathing deeply as she listened in on the conversation. "Calm and strong. You can do this."

_Kenton __leaned __over __Brennan__'__s __shoulder__. "__Do __you __want __to __go __back __to __the __lab __until __we __get __any __other __news__?" __he __asked__, __his __expression __falsely __solicitous__. "__It __will __be __safer __there__."_

"No," Milly yelled. "No, Tempe. Stay right here with the rest of these agents!"

_Brennan __nodded__. "__Actually__, __Zach__, __I__'__ll __see __you __in __a __few __minutes__," __she __said __in to __the __phone__. _

Milly stomped her foot. "Arrrgghhh!" she yelled before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Calm and strong. Calm and strong."

.

.

.

_Kenton__'__s __phone __rang __as __they __drove __across __the __bridge__. "__Kenton__," __he __answered __brusquely__. "__Dr__. __Brennan __is __with __me__ . . . __Just __now__? __Is __the __scene __secure__?" __He __slid __a __glance __toward __her__. "__Yea__. __Okay__. __Make __sure __there__'__s __backup__," __he __added __and __then __hung __up__. "__They __spotted __someone __taking __a __woman __into __those __old __abandoned __buildings __off __Hunter __Blvd__." __He __casually __looked __over __at __her __and __then __back __at __the __road__. "__I__'__ll __drop __you __off __at __the __lab__._

From her place in the backseat, Milly leaned forward and spoke into Brennan's ear. "Tempe, get out of the car now. You have to listen to me!"

"_No__," __Brennan __answered__, __her __tone __absolute__. "__I__'__m __coming__."_

"No!" Milly tried yelling louder. "GET OUT OF THE CAR!"

"_. . . __pointless __to __argue__," __Kenton __smiled__._

"_He__'__s __a __smart __man__, __Booth__," __Brennan __agreed__. "__I__'__ll __just __call __Zach__." __She __scrolled __through __her __phone __and __pressed __a __button__. "__I __think __I __know __how __to __complete __the __bullet__," __she __added __as __she __waited __for __him __to __pick __up__. "__Even __if __we __have __only __one __side__ . . ."_

Milly sucked in a horrified breath as he slid his gun quietly out of the holster beneath his arm. "Think, Millicent. Think. Strong and calm. Think."

_Brennan__'__s __voice __broke __off __when __Kenton__'__s __gun __entered __her __peripheral __vision__. __T__he __agent __smirked __and __knocked __Brennan__'__s __phone __out __of __her __hand __with __the __barrel __of __his __weapon__._

"_You __really __are __the __best__," __he __said __as __Brennan __stared __at __him __in __disbelief__. "__It__'__s __too __bad__ . . ."_

"You are not going to get away with this," Milly told him, her unheard voice harsh.

"_What __are __you __doing__?" __Brennan __asked__, __her __tone __incredulous__. "__Why __are __you __doing __this__?" __She __kept __a __wary __eye __on __the __gun__. "__You __don__'__t __honestly __think __you__'__ll __get __away __with __kidnapping __me__, __do __you__? __Booth __knows __I__'__m __with __you__. __Zach __knows__ . . ."_

_Kenton __looked __at __her __with __something __like __pity__. "__You __don__'__t __really __think __I__'__m __kidnapping __you__, __do __you__?" __Her __eyes __slipped __toward __the __handle __on __the __door__. "__Don__'__t __do __it__, __Dr__. __Brennan__," __he __murmured__, __his __voice __terrifyingly __expressionless__. "__Don__'__t __make __me __kill __you __here__, __inside __the __car__. __It __will __just __be __messy__ - __and __you__'__ll __still __be __dead__." _

Milly looked from Brennan to Kenton and then at the gun in his hand, her mind a confusing jumble of thoughts and plans she immediately discarded as impractical. Finally she simply threw back her head and screamed as loud as she could. "MICAH! WHERE ARE YOU?"

_Kenton __turned __onto __a __rough __road __marked __by __potholes__, __crawling __across __it __through __a __warren __of __deserted __warehouses__. __He __pulled __to __a __stop __and __threw __the __car __in __park__. __He __put __one __hand __on __the __handle __of __his __door __and __paused__. "__If __you __try __to __run__, __Dr__. __Brennan__, __I __will __make __sure __your __death __is __slow __and __painful__." __She __broke __the __stalemate __of __their __locked __glances __first __but __refused __to __respond__. _

_In __a __matter __of __seconds __he __was __around __the __car__, __pulling __her __out __beside __him__. __With __a __rough __jerk__, __he __drew __her __wrists __behind __her __back __and __cuffed __her__. __Gripping __her __shoulder __tightly __with __one __hand__, __he __found __an __unlocked __door __and __shoved __her __inside__. "__This __way__." _

"_You __will __not __get __away __with __this__," __she __said __as __he __forced __her __to __walk __ahead __of __him__. _

"_I __don__'__t __plan __on __sticking __around __to __find __out__," __he __murmured__, __pushing __her __deeper __into __the __shadowed __recesses __of __the __warehouse__. "__I __didn__'__t __want __to __do __this__, __you __know__," __he __added__. "__It__'__s __your __fault__."_

Milly followed behind them, trying to see further into the darkness, looking for Micah - for anyone - who might be able to help. "Calm and strong," she whispered to herself again. "Calm and strong."

" _. . . __in __any way __responsible __for __you __wanting __to __kill __me__?" __Brennan __scoffed__._

"_That __magic __program __of __yours__," __he __answered__, __smiling __at __her __as __if __their __conversation __were __about __nothing __more __important __than __the __weather__. __He __slid __a __metal __door __open __with __one __foot __and __walked __her __through __with __the __gun __hooked __over __her __shoulder__, __his __other __hand __wrapped __around __her __arm__. "__Certain __crimes__, __you __just __gotta __let __slide__," __he __said__. "__A __death __like __Cugini__'__s__, __it__'__s __something __that__'__s __an __internal __issue__. __Doesn__'__t __affect __anyone __else__."_

Milly's head snapped around when the sound of dogs barking echoed from somewhere else in the warehouse. "No. He wouldn't . . ." She rushed ahead, following the sound of the animals until she reached a dark, gray room. Chained to pipes attached to discolored cinderblock walls, two starving dogs snarled viciously. Her gut roiled with nausea when Kenton shoved Brennan into the room.

"_You __don__'__t __think __getting __rid __of __Cugini __ended __a __street __war__?" __Kenton __asked__. _

_Brennan __looked __at __the __animals__, __a __hint __of __fear __visible __on __her __face__. "__So __my __death __will __be __justified __now__?"_

"You're not dying!" Milly shouted. "I won't let you die!" She rushed to the dogs and tried to calm them, to no effect. "Micah!" she yelled again. "MICAH!"

"_Well __at __least __I__'__m __dying __for __a __good __reason__," __Brennan __said__, __determination __replacing __fear in her expression__. __Pulling __away __from __Kenton __with __a __jerk __she __pivoted __in __place__, __kicking __out __as __she __turned__, __booting __him __in __the __stomach__. __With __the __next __kick__, __she __sent __the __gun __flying __from __his __hand __as __he __fell __backward__. _

"That's it, honey," Milly encouraged loudly. "Fight! Hit him again!"

_Hands still bound behind her back, Brennan rushed for the gun. Kenton was on his feet by then; he grabbed the collar of her jacket and pulled her back. Turning toward him, Brennan bent at the waist and drove the top of her head into his abdomen, sending him falling over a desk. Milly raced for the pistol herself; using her foot she pushed it forward a few inches. Turning swiftly, Brennan saw it lying in the middle of the floor and dropped to her back, grabbing it with her cuffed hands before rolling to her feet._

"Turn around and shoot him!" Milly cried. "I'll aim it for you!"

"Get out of the way, Milly!" Micah appeared behind Kenton just as Brennan's foot slammed into his knee.

"I couldn't stop him," she babbled, stepping back as Brennan fell to the ground and used her legs to sweep Kenton's from under him. "I tried but nothing worked."

"I'll do what I can," the guardian promised, putting one foot on Kenton to hold him down after Brennan's kick to his face sent him sprawling, giving her time to trap his head between her knees. "Move the gun away from him!"

Before Milly could reach it, Kenton's searching fingers closed around the hilt and he slammed it against Brennan's forehead.

"_You __bitch__!" __he __said__, __falling __back __with __a __moan __when __she __lay __unresponsive __beside __him__. __He __tested __his __nose __gingerly __then __scooted __away __from __her__. "__I __should __just __cut __you __and __let __the __dogs __have __you__," __he __growled __before __struggling __to __his __feet__. _

'Micah, you have to do something," Milly pleaded as Kenton tugged at a rusted hook hanging from the ceiling, pulling it lower. "You can't let this happen. You can't. We can't."

"There's only so much I can do." The guardian shook his head. "I can't stop everything-" He broke off abruptly, his head turning toward the doorway. "Your son is here," he announced. "Go find him," he ordered. "Find him and lead him back here. I'll . . ." They watched as Kenton pulled a length of rope and a red and black scarf from his pocket. "I'll slow him down as much as I can. Go!" he shouted when she hesitated, staring from the door to Brennan. "Go!"

She nodded frantically and rushed out, not allowing herself to look back. "Ruth! Seeley!" she yelled as she raced through the warehouse, not bothering with doorways or hallways. "Ruth!"

"Milly!" Ruth had rushed ahead as soon as they entered the building. "Where's Tempe? Is she okay?"

"We have to get Seeley," Milly said. "He's got her, Kenton's got her and . . ." She stopped abruptly. "We have to get Seeley." She grabbed Ruth's hand and kept moving.

"He can't move very well, he's still hurt," Ruth explained as she led the way. "He just pulled everything off, all the monitors at the hospital, and made Hodgins drive him here - is Tempe okay?"

"No," Milly answered honestly. "Kenton pistol-whipped her and knocked her out and . . . there he is!" She raced to Booth's side and slipped her arms around his waist. "Help me, Ruth! He has to move faster! We're running out of time!" Unseen, the two women supported the wounded man as he hobbled through the dingy corridors behind the other agents.

Milly's eyes were on his feet, shuffling one step at a time when something glinted in the shadows ahead. "Ruth, Tempe's keys. Look!" She nodded toward them. "See if you can move them out more. Hurry!" she called as the other woman ran to follow her instructions. "Son," she murmured close to Booth's ear. "Honey, look down. Baby, look at the ground. Look. LOOK DOWN NOW!"

_Booth __hesitated__, __slowing __as __something __on __the __floor __caught __his __attention__ - __instantly __he __recognized __the __skull __grinning __up __at __him __from __the __thick __ring __of __keys__. __He __whistled __at __the __agents __ahead __of __him__._

"That's it, baby. Good job," Milly murmured as Hodgins bent to pick up the keys. "This way. Let's go this way." She nodded to his left and with Ruth's help, guided him toward Brennan.

" _. . . __The __things __I __have __to __do __to __you__, __you__'__ll __be __gone __first__," __Kenton __was __saying__. "__You__'__ll __never __know __a __thing__ . . ." _

"Temperance!" Ruth cried out at the sight of her daughter hanging from the hook, gagged with the scarf. Micah stood behind her; when he saw Booth take aim his eyes glinted with satisfaction.

"I knew I could count on you two," he announced when Booth's shot caught Kenton's arm raised to strike at Brennan. "Excellent work. Excellent."

Milly collapsed against the wall as her son rushed to release Brennan. She rested her head against her knees and struggled for composure. Ruth didn't wait to see Booth duck under Brennan's bindings, draping her arms around his neck as he used his body strength to stand and lift her hands off the hook before they both fell to their knees embracing each other; instead, she ran straight to Micah and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you, Micah, thank you!" she repeated over and over, her face pressed into his chest as her tears soaked his shirt. "Thank you, thank you."

The guardian's hands hovered six inches above her shoulders before he lowered one and awkwardly patted her back three times. "There. There," he said, using the thumb and index finger of both hands to push her gently away from him. "You're welcome. No!" he lifted a hand to ward her off when she would have hugged him again. With a glance at Booth and Brennan still kneeling together and then at Kenton being hauled to his feet by another agent, he stepped back.

"All right," he nodded. "I think I'm done here. You two are good, right? Milly?" She looked up from her seat against the wall and nodded.

"Micah, I don't know how to . . ."

He waved her thanks off. "I couldn't have done this one without you," he said.

Ruth wiped the tears from her cheeks as she stumbled past Booth and Brennan to collapse beside Milly. When she looked up again, Micah was gone.

"Do you think he'd be offended if I told him I never wanted to see him again?" she asked, letting her head fall to Milly's shoulder as they watched Hodgins untie the ropes that bound Brennan's hands. When she was free, they both assisted a weakened Booth to his feet.

Milly snorted. "No, I think he'd understand," she said. She sighed heavily and allowed her own head to lean against Ruth's. "He'd totally understand."

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><p><em>I'm trying to think of something clever to include in this note but frankly, this chapter wore me out. Feel free to insert your own clever comment by using that pretty Kentucky blue review button. :-)<em>


	17. A Bad Day at the Office

_Booth__ stalked __into __the __lab__, __his __expression __grim__. __He__ started __calling __for __Brennan __even __before __the __doors __behind __him __slid __closed__._

_"__Bones__!" __He __stood __below __the __platform __and __scanned __it __unsuccessfully__. "__Where__'__s __Bones__?" __he __demanded __when __Hodgins __swiveled __on __the __stool __he __currently __occupied__._

_"__Good __morning__, __Dr__. __Hodgins__," __the __scientist __said __sarcastically__. "__How __are __you__? __I__'__m __fine__," __he __answered __himself__. "__Thank __you __for __asking__, __Agent __Booth__. __How __are __you__?"_

_Booth__'__s __response __was __to __stop__, shove his hands in his pockets and glare __silently__. __The __minutes __passed__._

_"__Okay__," __Hodgins __said __finally__. "__Well__, __that __was __fun__." __He __waved __over __his __shoulder __and __turned __back __to __his __work__. "__She__'__s __in __her __office__."_

_Booth __pivoted __without __a __reply__, __taking __long __steps __as __he __headed __toward __the __stairs__. "__Bones__!" __he __yelled __again__._

His loud voice barely registered with his mother. Blinking in shock, Milly stood at the end of the long hallway that lead to bone storage and stared at the ancient guide. "Excuse me?" She shook her head. "Are you sure?"

He inclined his head. "Bones do not lie," he said simply.

Her mouth hung open. "But how would you know?" she asked finally. "She didn't stay here - she moved on." Milly struggled to make sense of what he'd just revealed. "We both did - I mean, I know we're here now but we moved on first and and then we got in trouble so we were sent back but it's not like we don't know where we belong or that we're afraid of-" She waved her hands in the air as if to wipe away the babble of words. "It's complicated. Are you sure?" she asked again, her expression pleading as she looked into the deep set dark eyes.

"I have seen her face. Bones do not lie," he said again, standing in front of her solemnly, his dark cloak wrapped snugly around him.

"Yea, you said that already," Milly muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Why are you just now telling me this? Why didn't you say something before?"

"The bones of many rest below. I see only those brought to her," he explained, lifting his eyes to Brennan's office. "The spirits are better left in peace until they must be disturbed."

"But that's what I mean," Milly said. "Her spirit isn't with her bones, it's . . ." She looked around suddenly. "Well, actually, she should be around here somewhere with Seeley."

The guide shook his head. "She did not enter with the warrior."

"Well, she must have," Milly argued, her neck craning as she searched for sign of Ruth. "She has to stay with-" Her words cut off abruptly. "The warrior?" she asked, turning back to him with a smile. "You call Seeley the warrior?"

He nodded.

She smiled proudly. "Well, I can see why you'd think . . ." She shook her head and waved one hand in the air again. "No, I'm getting sidetracked." She clasped her hands together, making a steeple of her fingers. "Let me make sure I've got this right. Ruth is not here right now. She didn't come in with Seeley."

He shook his head.

Hands open, she gestured widely. "But her bones are here."

"Yes."

"Her bones are _here_," Milly said slowly, pointing to the floor, "in this building."

"Yes."

"And you're absolutely positive they're Ruth's bones?"

"Bones do not . . ."

"Bones don't lie," Milly said with him, her tone weary. "Got it."

_"__I __don__'__t __know __why __you__'__re __so __upset__, __Booth__." __Brennan __came __out __of __her __office __pulling __on __a __jacket__. "__I __had __to __send __that __report __off __to __the __State __Department __first__. __It __was __a __special __request__." __She __glanced __at __him __over __her __shoulder __as __she __started __down __the __stairs__. "__I __sent __Zach __out __as __soon __as __you __called __so __he __could __begin __processing __the __scene__. __We__'__re __not __that __far __behind __schedule__."_

_"__You __said __you__'__d __be __ready __when __I __got __here__, __Bones__," __he __grumbled__. "__The __press __is __already __all __over __the __place__ . . ."_

"This is not good," Milly whispered to herself as she nodded goodbye to the guide and followed her son and his partner toward the double doors. "This is not good."

.

.

_"__I __never __get __used __to __the __magnitude __of __this __place__, __what __it__'__s __taken __to __keep __this __country __free__," __Booth __said __solemnly __as __he __and __Brennan __walked __toward __the __crime __scene__._

_Brennan __shrugged__. "__All __societies __build __monuments__ . . ."_

"Yea yea yea, you two handle world peace." Milly muttered as she brushed past them, scanning to the left and right for any sign of Ruth. "Where is that woman?" she muttered as she weaved through the rows of small white headstones. "I swear, I'm going to put a bell on-"

"Milly!" Near the confusion of a grave surrounded by yellow police tape, Ruth stood with a young man wearing Army dress greens. She waved wildly and called out again. "Over here!"

With a resigned shake of her head, Milly headed toward them. She grimaced at the sight of the burned body propped against a headstone. "What happened over there?" she asked when she reached Ruth and the serviceman.

The soldier answered. "He met a young woman here last night. She killed him and then set him on fire." He looked at the charred remains with regret. "There was nothing I could do to stop it."

Ruth touched his arm gently. "Of course there wasn't, Sergeant." She beamed at the other woman. "Milly, this is Sgt. Richards. He knows Seeley! This is his mother," she added to the soldier.

"Ma'am." His dark head bent respectfully. "I served with Sgt. Booth. You should be proud of him, he's a good man."

Milly nodded with a smile. "Thank you, I appreciate that." She smiled at Ruth through her teeth. "Speaking of Seeley - aren't you supposed to stay with him? Did you wander off here on your own again?"

Ruth was unconcerned with Milly's obvious ire. "I heard the call come in. I knew you'd get here eventually."

_"__The __accelerant __was __charcoal __starter__." __Zach__'__s __voice was clearly audible__._

"Ruth," Milly began. "I need to talk to you . . ."

"Oh, come on," she whined. "It's not like I left him for very long."

Milly shook her head. "It's not that. It's . . . something else."

Ruth looked on her friend with interest. "Okay," She turned back to Sgt. Richards. "If you change your mind -"

He shook his head. "No, ma'am. Maybe someday but not right now," he smiled. "My wife brings my daughters here every year on my birthday. I don't want to miss seeing them grow up."

"I understand." Ruth squeezed his hand sympathetically. "It was nice meeting you, Sgt. Richards."

Milly murmured her own goodbye and led Ruth several feet away. Voices from the graveside still reached them.

_"__Why __do __you __have __to __be __so __cynical__?" __Booth __asked__._

_Brennan __looked __at __him __in __surprise __as __she __moved __to __the __other __side __of __the __body__. "__I__'__m __not __cynical__. __It__'__s __a __necessary __psychology __of __warfare__. __Heroes __and __villains__, __without __clear __distinctions__ . . ."_

Ruth frowned as she watched them, her arms crossed over her chest. "This is going to be one of those cases that causes problems, isn't it?"

"Like we need more of those," Milly muttered. Taking a deep breath she turned to face Brennan's mother. "Ruth, there's something I need to tell you."

Ruth looked away from the group surrounding the corpse and into Milly's serious face. "All right." Milly bit her lower lip nervously while she searched for the right way to begin. "Milly?" When there was still nothing forthcoming, she smiled. "Is this about you and Raphael?"

The deep breath Milly had just taken was released in a choking fit. "Wh . . . what?" she sputtered. "What? No." She shook her head. "No. No no no no. Why would . . . . No. I don't know where . . . . No." She cleared her throat nervously. "No. No. That's not . . . No." She attempted a normal laugh. "Wow, that came out of nowhere. No."

Ruth carefully kept her expression blank. "Oh, okay," she shrugged. "It's just that when we were in the desert with Angela I went looking for you one night and you were sitting on the roof." She waited one beat. "With him."

Milly stared at her, frozen in place. The silence lengthened. Her mouth opened but it was several more seconds before she could form words. "Well . . ." she began. "That . . . that was . . ." Her brain shut down. "Okay, see, what that was . . . what happened was . . ." Nothing. Her mind was blank. "It was . . . well, it wasn't . . . It . . . You know . . ."

Ruth was sure that if she were still alive the inside of her cheek would be bleeding from her effort to hold back her laughter. "There were a lot of stars," she offered helpfully. "Maybe he was just showing you the night sky?"

"Yes!" Milly grabbed for the lifeline, her relief apparent. "Yes. Yes. Exactly. I was just going to say . . ." She kept nodding. "Stars. Yes. There were a lot of . . . of . . . Yes." Nodding. "So many. There are . . . because, you know, it's the desert and so . . . so . . . so there are a lot." More nodding. "Of stars. And who better, really?" she asked. "Because you know, there are so many . . . so he was just . . ."

Distracted, she watched Booth duck under the crime tape and walk the few paces to where Sgt. Richards stood beside his headstone. When Booth stopped to pay his respects, the soldier he couldn't see came to attention and saluted.

Ruth nodded in faux seriousness. "All right. I guess I was just confused . . . since you were holding hands."

Milly's deer-in-the-headlights look was back. "No." Her head shook violently. "No." Her panicked gaze skittered between Ruth and her son. "No. No." Her head continued to shake from side to side. "No. See that . . . what you saw . . . No. That was . . ."

_Brennan __looked __at Booth __curiously__. "__You __believe __somehow __he__'__s __still __here __watching__?"_

_Booth __nodded__. "__Yea__." __He __spared __a __brief __glance __in __her __direction__. "__You __don__'__t__. __I __get __that__," __he __said __as __he __crouched __down __in __front __of __the __marker__. __Sgt__. __Richards __laid __an __unseen __hand __on __his __shoulder__._

Ruth finally took pity on her. "Okay, forget I asked. "What did you want to tell me?"

"Tell you?" Milly clutched for her scattered thoughts. "What did I . . . Right. I wanted to tell you something." Her teeth worried at her lower lip. "What did I want to tell you? Oh!" she exclaimed with a snap of her fingers. "I know. Your bones are in the lab."

Ruth stared at her in shock. "What?"

Milly flinched. "I meant to say that differently," she mumbled. "Surprise?"

"That's not funny, Milly," Ruth said angrily. "Are you joking? How can my bones be in the lab?"

"I don't know," Milly responded honestly. "The old guy, the one from bone storage? He just told me today."

"Well, he has to be wrong," Ruth said simply. "He's just wrong."

Milly shrugged. "That's what I thought, too, but he said bones don't lie." She pulled a face. "He was pretty sure about that."

"No." Ruth shook her head. "I died in Pennsylvania. I didn't stick around to see what happened to my body but I know where I was. He's wrong."

_"__What __are __you __doing__?" __Brennan__'__s __loud __scolding __traveled __clearly __over __the __graves __separating __them__. __She __crouched __beside __several __people __working __next __to __a __long __stretcher__. "__Have __you __never __prepared __human __remains __for __transport __before__?" __She __glared __at __one __of __the __technicians__. "__Please __move __out __of __my __way__. __Zach__, __I __need __you __here__, __please__."_

_"__Bones__," __Booth __left __Sgt__. __Richards__' __grave__. "__Take __it __easy __on__ . . ."_

_"__I __would __appreciate __it __if __you __would __not __bring __untrained __rookies __to __my __crime __scenes__, __Booth__," __she __snapped __without __looking __at __him__. "__Zach__, __would __you__ . . ."_

"Well, doesn't this day just get better and better?" Milly muttered.

.

.

_"__The __victim __had __lamb __about __an __hour __before __his __death__. __Of __course__, __it__'__s __a __little __overcooked __now__ . . ." __Hodgins __joked__._

_"__He __toasted __himself__," __Booth __remarked __snidely __as __he __swiped __his __card __and __walked __up __onto __the __security __platform__. "__Who __cares __what __he __ate__?"_

Ruth hurried past without looking toward Milly, hovering above a computer monitor.

"Ruth?" When there was no response, Milly slipped down and rushed to her side. "What are you doing?"

She kept walking. "I'm going to prove those bones aren't mine."

"Wait! Wait! Ruth!" Milly grabbed her arm and forced her to a stop. "You can't just barrel in there like that. He's . . . well, I don't know exactly who he is," Milly acknowledged, "but he's ancient. You have to treat him with respect."

"I'm not going to hold him down until he cries uncle," Ruth huffed. "I just want to know why he thinks those bones are mine - and then I'm going to prove they're not."

_"__I__'__m __sorry__, __you __know__," __Booth __bit __out__, "__but __I __left __my __phrase __book __at __home__."_

Milly looked from her son to Ruth and sighed. "We need a whole bunch of happy pills in this place today. Okay," she waved a hand at Ruth. "Let's go prove these bones aren't yours."

.

.

"Bones do not lie." The guide stood before them, his demeanor placid and unruffled. He'd met them at the entrance to the long hallway lined with the boxes of shadowed bones. He wouldn't let them go any further.

"I'm not saying the bones are lying," Ruth insisted. "I'm just saying that - maybe - you're mistaken."

His expression never changed. "I have seen your face."

"Because I'm right here!" Milly touched her shoulder in a gentle rebuke of her tone. "I'm sorry," Ruth apologized immediately. "I don't mean to be angry - it's just that there has to be some mistake." From the square room at the other end of the hallway, Milly saw curious faces peeking at them. Ruth noticed, as well. "I'm not one of them," she pointed. "My spirit didn't stay with my bones. I died." She held up one hand and ticked off one finger. "And then I went to the light." She waved her right hand in the air and then touched a second finger. "And then I came out in the DMV or something," she muttered. "There were long lines and people with clipboards and they had me down as Ruth instead of . . . never mind." She waved her hand in frustration. "Anyway, then I went to orientation and when I came out I met Milly. And now I'm here!" She framed her face within her hands. "My face is here. Right here. Not," she gestured behind him toward the square room, "back there on someone else's bones!"

"Bones do not lie," he said again.

Ruth turned wild eyes to Milly. "He's not listening to me!"

"Maybe you're not listening," she responded gently. "Maybe he's -"

"No!" Ruth interrupted immediately, jabbing one finger in her face. "No. Those are not my bones. They can't be, because if they are . . ." She paused and blinked back a sudden onslaught of tears. "If they are, that means Tempe will have to identify me and . . . and that's not fair." She glared at Milly and then the guide. "It's not fair. How is she going to feel when . . . " she bit off the words. "It's not fair. No!" She cut off whatever Milly might have said. "Those are not my bones. I don't care what you say," she told the guide, "this time, those bones are lying." She turned sharply and stomped away.

"Bones do not lie," he said again as they watched her angry progress.

Milly rolled her eyes. "Yea. I think I heard that somewhere."

.

.

She found Ruth in their spot, the walkway high above the platform. Without a word she sat down beside the other woman and let her legs dangle through the bars next to Ruth's.

They watched the activity below for a few minutes

"Where are the kids?" Milly asked finally.

"They went to Seeley's office," Ruth answered. "The burned guy, his mother came in."

"Oh." A rueful smile crossed Milly's face. "I hope Michael isn't grading us on attendance," she chuckled, "because we sure do let them go off on their own a lot."

"We do," Ruth agreed. "I guess as long as Micah isn't around, it's safe."

Milly snorted. "Wait till I see him again! He just disappeared in New Orleans without a by-your-leave or _watch __out __for __the __voodoo _or anything."

Ruth nodded. "Talk about letting them go off on their own . . ." Below them, Hodgins and Zach began a spirited comparison of the greatest college basketball players ever. With a grimace, Angela gathered her things and left the platform. "Do you think those bones are mine?" Ruth asked quietly.

"Are you going to yell at me?"

"Maybe."

"Well, if you stick that finger in my face again," Milly promised, "I'm going to bite it." Ruth immediately waggled one finger close to Milly's nose, who snapped her teeth at it playfully. But the moment of levity was brief. "Yes, I do," she said quietly.

Ruth took a deep breath. "Me, too."

"_Bones __do __not __lie__," _Milly intoned solemnly.

Ruth hung her head. "Please don't ever say that again."

Milly laughed shortly. "Yea. And you're right," she added. "It's not fair. But maybe we're getting worried over nothing." Ruth looked at her curiously. "Just because the bones are here doesn't mean she'll actually see them anytime soon," she shrugged. "Look how many other sets are in those boxes. It could be years before she gets around to identifying yours. Hopefully, we'll be long gone by then."

Ruth looked at her in disbelief. "So it's okay if she identifies my dead body as long as I don't have to see how it affects her?"

"Well not when you put it like that." Milly leaned forward and rested her chin on the rail despondently. "Doesn't matter anyway. With our luck, she'll get to you next week."

.

.

_When __Brennan __returned __hours __later__, __she __was __alone__. __She __paused __below __the __platform__. "__Zach__, __the __military __is __going __to __deliver __Kent__'__s __medical __records __and __autopsy __reports__. __When __they __arrive__, __please __let __me __know __immediately__." __Without __waiting __for __a __response __she __continued __to __her __office__, __her __long__, __impatient __strides __eating __up __the __distance __quickly__._

"Where's Seeley?" Ruth asked.

Milly shrugged. "She doesn't look happy. Maybe he made her walk back here."

"I knew this one was going to cause problems," Ruth muttered. "He feels more pressure when it involves the military."

"Tempe could help him out." At Ruth's scandalized gasp, she slapped at the other woman's arm. "I don't mean that! I meant that he could talk to her!" She shook her head. "Geez - who do you think I am, Angela?"

"Sorry, but it sounded like-" Ruth didn't look completely convinced.

"And besides," Milly continued suddenly, "love is more than just sex you know! Love can be . . . it can be . . . pure and . . . and spiritual and . . . transcendental!" She gestured widely, her eyes wild. "Real love is . . . it's two people- two souls! - finding each other despite . . . despite circumstances and . . . and some people interfering when they should just mind their own business!"

The confusion in Ruth's face cleared instantly. "Transcendental? Okay." She ducked her head to hide a knowing smirk.

"You can love someone without ever being able to . . . well, you know, express it physically" she said delicately. "Which isn't fair, really," she continued, muttering. "Especially when you can tell how good it would be just by looking at him-"

"So," Ruth interrupted quickly, choking back laughter, "Temperance and Seeley? You think their love is the pure and spiritual kind? Transcendental and all? We can stop trying to get them in bed together?"

Milly blinked out of her thoughts. "What?" She shook her head. "Oh, no. They absolutely have to have sex. What are you talking about?"

"Nothing." Ruth shook her head and looked away, fighting to hide her amusement. "Speaking of Seeley, I think I'll just see if he's in his office now that Temperance is back. We'll catch up later?"

"Yea, sure," Milly waved. "Whatever. I'll be here."

.

.

From her perch above the platform, Milly watched and listened as Brennan's team discovered evidence of the friendly fire cover-up. She banged her forehead against the metal bar. "Oh jumping Jehoshaphat," she murmured quietly. "I hate this case!" she yelled toward the ceiling. "I hate this case!" She stared at the people below. "I know you can't hear me, but I hate this case!" she shouted at them. Movement in her peripheral vision had her looking to the right, down the long hallway toward bone storage. Faces peeped out at her. She waved jauntily. "Fat lot of good it does me that you guys can hear me when you're all too afraid to come out of your little room!" The faces disappeared quickly. "See! Boo!"

_"__Angela__," __Brennan __instructed__, "__enhance __all __the __pictures __of __the __aftermath __so __we __can __see __body __positions__, __bullet __holes__, __damage __to __the __house__. __I __want __to __reconstruct __what __happened __that __night__."_

_"__Sure__, __I__'__ve __already __been __working __on __that__." __She __headed __off __the __platform __toward __her __office__, __Brennan __at __her __heels__._

"Yea," Milly grumbled. "Make the pictures of dead bodies bigger and brighter. No thanks," she huffed. "I'll pass." She stayed where she was until Hodgins began lecturing Zach with his theory of a Masonic shadow government having master control of all the world's armies. Unwilling to listen any longer, she made her way to Angela's office.

_" . . . came from Lefferts' weapon," Brennan instructed over Angela's shoulder. "This is hard for Booth," she added suddenly__.__ "He's idealistic."_

"He's not idealistic," Milly disagreed, studying Angela's hanging-man painting. "He just has a straightforward definition of honor."

" . . . _nice __to __know __somebody __that __wants __to __keep __honor __and __responsibility __alive__," __Angela __responded__._

_"__I __feel __like __Booth __thinks __I__'__m __taking __that __away __from __him__," __Brennan __said__, __her __tone __resigned__._

"He doesn't think you're taking it away from him." Even knowing it was futile, Milly couldn't help but respond. "He just doesn't think you place the same value on it as he does."

_" . . . __when __he __saw __Kent __and __Kent __took __him __out__. __Let__'__s __see __A __again__?"_

_Angela __tapped __on __her __keyboard__. "__You__'__re __just __doing __your __job__. __He __knows __that__."_

"Just because she's just doing her job doesn't mean she can't be more sensitive to what Seeley is going through." Milly stepped up behind the two women and grimaced at the carnage showing on the monitor. "That's all he wants."

_" . . . __his __hands__."_

_"__What __are __you __looking __for__?" __Angela __asked __as __the __images __changed__._

"How is it Ruth can get you people to listen to her and everyone just ignores me?" Milly asked pointedly.

_" . . . __from __the __rounds __coming __at __him__," __Brennan __held __up __her __hand__, __palm __out__. "__Cadaveric __spasm__. __The __muscles __became __rigid __when __he __died__. __He __might __not __have __been __holding __that __weapon__."_

"People listened to me when I was alive, you know."

_"__Show __me __Insurgent __B__," __Brennan __commanded__._

"Occasionally, they even laughed at my jokes. I can be very funny."

_Brennan __flipped __through __the __file__. "__I __tell __Booth __we__'__re __on __the __same __side__," __she __explained __to __Angela__. "__I__'__m __not __the __one __who__'__s __disillusioning __him__. __It__'__s __my __findings__."_

Milly snorted. "I think that's a distinction that only you would make, sweetheart."

_Brennan __sighed__. "__I __don__'__t __know __what __else __I __can __do__."_

_Angela __smirked__. "__I __do__."_

"See!" Milly exclaimed loudly, pointing at Angela. "See! Right there!" She looked around in frustration. "And of course Ruth isn't around to hear it." She swatted Angela's head uselessly. "Why is everyone in this place so obsessed with sex? Why does everything always have to be about sex?" She threw her hands up in frustration and stomped out of Angela's office.

She was striding down the hallway in high dudgeon when his voice reached her. "You seem distressed, Millicent."

She pivoted sharply and then, hands balled into fists on her hips, advanced on him irritably. "You." She poked him in the chest and ignored the beauty of the blue eyes that smiled just for her. "This is all your fault."

Raphael folded his arms and surveyed her with amusement. "What is it that is all my fault?"

Suddenly remembering who - and what - he was closed Milly's mouth with a snap. "Never mind," she muttered. "Just go away." She brushed the air in front of him with a shooing motion. "Go away." She walked off then halted abruptly. "I don't mean go away forever," she explained, turning back. "You know that, right?"

"That is good to know." He nodded without even trying to hide his merriment.

She pursed her lips and huffed. "Fine, then just . . . go away." She wiggled her hand at him again. "I'll – I'll click my heels three times or something when I want you."

Even when he frowned in confusion she was transfixed by the sight of him. Men had no right to be that beautiful, she thought, just before a beam of light cut through the glass above and picked up the bleached strands of his hair. "Gah," she scowled. "What do you do, carry sunshine around with you?"

He had the nerve to laugh at her irritation. Growling, she turned on her heel. He chuckled again when her mutterings reached his ears as she disappeared down the hallway. "I had a normal life. I was a normal person. Why can't I be a normal dead person, too?"

.

.

"I'm so glad this is over," Ruth whispered as the memorial service wound down. She and Milly stood off to the side, watching with Sgt. Richards and a few of the other soldiers who'd stayed with their graves. As the rifle party turned on command and began to file off, the dead servicemen came to attention and saluted.

Milly watched the Marshalls stop to say a few words to Brennan and Booth. "I wish he could see them," she murmured, indicating with her head the spirits standing at attention. "He would appreciate the respect they're showing. Although," she smiled, "if he could see them it would probably freak him out."

"Probably so," Ruth agreed.

"Are you going to go do your lost soul routine?" Milly asked.

"No. They know where to find me." She stared intently at Booth and Brennan. "Something is bothering him," she said quietly. Milly followed the direction of her eyes. "He talked a little bit about it with the guy he had lunch with yesterday but it wasn't enough. That guy told him he should talk to Tempe about it."

"He should," Milly nodded. "She's a good listener."

"_I__'__ve __done __some __things__." __Booth__'__s __hesitant __voice __traveled __clearly __to __the __two __women __watching__._

"I hope you're right," Ruth said flatly as she moved closer.

" . . . _But __it__'__s __okay__." __Brennan __watched __him __carefully__._

_Booth __shook __his __head__. "__Well__, __not__ . . . __not __as __a __secret__."_

Ruth and Milly took seats next to them. Out of habit, Ruth sat beside Booth and Milly beside Brennan. As Booth spoke, Ruth rubbed his shoulders comfortingly.

"_. . . __I __have __to __be . . . __honest __about __myself.__" __Booth hesitated. __Brennan__'__s __eyes __stayed __locked __on __him__. "__I__ . . . __I __have __to __be __able __to __tell __someone__."_

"_You __will __in __time__, __Booth__," __she __nodded__. _

Ruth looked across Booth as his hands clenched and unclenched. "Milly, he wants to tell her!"

"_You __will__," __Brennan __said __again__._

Milly leaned over and spoke in Brennan's ear. "He wants to talk to you, honey. Shut up and listen."

Ruth frowned. "You could have been nicer about it."

"_I __was __sent __to __Kosovo__," __Booth __began__, __his __voice __halting__._

"What?" Milly sat back. "That was nice!"

"_Shut up and listen_? That was nice?"

"It worked, didn't it? She's listening!"

" _. . . __done __this __twice __before__. __I __mean__, __we __had __facts__, __proof__, 232 __people __just __erased__."_

Ruth stood up. "I'm going to give them some privacy," she sniffed. "This is a tender moment."

" _. . .. __Nobody __knew __where __the __shot __came __from__, __but__, __you __know__, __they __knew __why __it __came__ . . ."_

"Tender moment?" Milly made a face. "I'm not sure this qualifies- Hey!"

Ruth grabbed her arm and pulled her away from Booth and Brennan. "Yes, a tender moment. They're having a moment and we're going to give them some privacy."

"I think you and I need to discuss the definition of romance," Milly muttered as she allowed herself to be tugged away from the folding chairs where their children sat.

On the other side of the men filling in Marshall's grave, Ruth stopped. "I didn't say a romantic moment, I said a tender moment. Look at them."

Brennan chose that moment to lay a hand on Booth's arm. He looked down at it for a brief second then released a pent-up breath of air and covered it with his own.

"See? They're having a moment." Ruth kept her eyes on them. "He reached out to her and she reached back." She smiled at Milly. "It's a step in the right direction."

"You're right," Milly admitted. "It is a step forward." She watched for a few minutes more. "Wouldn't it be nice, though, if every once in a while they had a moment that didn't involve a funeral or a cemetery? Maybe dinner and a movie . . . a play . . . a nice concert."

Ruth's head turned slowly; she huffed angrily and glared at Milly.

"What?"

In a gesture that mirrored her daughter, Ruth pursed her lips tightly then spun away. "I'm going to wait in the car while OUR CHILDREN have their moment."

"Did I say something wrong?" Milly followed her up the hill.

Ruth ignored her.

"I just think dinner every once in a while would be nice, don't you?"

"Ruth?"

"Ruth?"

.

.

* * *

><p><em>I've got to be honest, I don't like this episode. I had hoped that if I used it for a chapter, with the multiple viewings writing about it requires, that I'd learn to like it more. But, meh. It's just so overly dramatic. I will say, though, that the acting classes DB must taken since this was filmed have definitely worked. Watch the last scene here and compare it to Booth going through his father's box in Male in the Mail. Now that's some fine work. <em>

_Thanks for reading!  
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	18. From Out of the Past

**AN: Hey! Hello! Long time, no see! I bet you thought I'd abandoned this story, didn't you? Well, no such luck. I allowed myself to get distracted by other stuff for way too long but I definitely did not forget about Ruth and Milly. This story has a road to travel and an end and it will get there eventually - even if _Bones_ is long over and I'm the only one still reading when it happens! :-D  
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**If you're reading, thanks for sticking with it!  
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"Good grief, this place is more of a madhouse than usual," Ruth exclaimed as she caught up with Milly in the hallway outside Brennan's office. "Why are you out here?"

"Because it's too crowded in there and everyone is walking through me and it's getting on my nerves," Milly grumbled with bad humour. "No one even says 'excuse me.'" She caught Ruth's eye and shrugged. "Yea, I know they can't see me. It still bugs me."

"Tempe needs to hurry," Ruth pointed out as one foot tapped impatiently. Inside the room, Booth stripped Brennan's lab coat off before helping her into a black blazer. "They're late for court already. Seeley had to turn his siren on and run a few red lights to get here this quick." The two women pulled back as Brennan, Booth and Dr. Goodman poured out into the hallway, only to be met by first Hodgins and then Angela.

_"I found glass, I found pollen." Hodgins spoke quickly. "Which do you want first?"_

"She needs blinders," Ruth muttered as her daughter swiped her card and climbed up on the platform. "Like a horse."

"Yea, that would work," Milly laughed. "Whisper it in Seeley's ear - or hers!"

"I will if you will!" Ruth grinned.

_"If you have time for this," Dr. Goodman said irritably, "you have time for my Hittite." _

_Brennan ignored him and bent over a skull spotted with small white markers. "Tissue depth of the cheekbones and along the jawline looks a little deep to me," she told Zach, "but otherwise-"_

_Booth interrupted her rudely, waving a red legal file between her face and the skull before turning her forcibly away from the table. "Out of limbo," he muttered as he pushed her none-too-gently off the platform. "Back on earth and on our way to court. Thanks."_

"Finally!" Ruth huffed as she and Milly followed them toward the exit. "Let's get this show on the -" Her words ended abruptly as a short, dark-haired man stepped into their path. "What is HE doing here!" She glared at Milly as Brennan kissed David on the cheek.

Milly blew out a puff of air. "They've been . . . kind of seeing each other." Seeing Ruth's expression she spread her hands helplessly. "I didn't want to tell you - you don't like him!"

"You don't like him either!" Ruth exclaimed.

"So why should we both suffer?" Milly offered helpfully.

" . . . _when I'm not in custody," David said as he crossed in front of Booth and Brennan and forced them to a halt. "Listen, I read your manuscript . . ."_

"He read her book?" Ruth gaped at Milly. "Seeley has asked a million times and she always tells him no!"

"_You read her manuscript?" Booth ripped the pages from David's hands. _

"No way she lets him read a draft," Milly shrugged. "It would be too awkward."

"_Yuck on the title," Booth frowned at Brennan as she snatched it from him. "Am I in it?"_

_"No," she said immediately._

"Oh, please, honey." Milly rolled her eyes.

_"Definitely," David's knowing look was a description in itself. _

"He's in this one, too?" Ruth stared at her friend, mouth agape.

"Oh, yea," Milly replied smugly. "If you know what I mean," she winked.

"Well that's ridicul- Where is she going now?" Brennan suddenly stomped off back down the hallway. "We're going to be late!"

"At least she left us some entertainment." Milly laughed, watching with amusement as Booth and David circled each other like lions fighting for supremacy. "This might be fun."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me Tempe was seeing him," Ruth grumbled as she observed the two men. "Don't you think that's the kind of thing I need to know?"

"Oh, relax," Milly waved off her concerns. "There's nothing to worry about, trust me."

"How do you know?"

"Well, let's just say . . . he's a bit quick on the trigger." She lifted her eyebrows suggestively.

Ruth's mouth fell open in shock. "Milly!"

Milly threw up her hands. "It's not like I'm watching!" she defended herself. "But it's kind of hard not to hear him apologizing every time they have sex."

"Milly!"

Her shrug was exaggerated. "I'm dead, not deaf."

Before Ruth could respond, Brennan ran across the end of the hallway, calling for Zach. Puzzled, the two women moved toward her.

"What's going on now?" From the platform, they could hear Brennan demanding an evidence bag as alarms and bells sounded discordantly through the lab.

"Whatever it is," Ruth muttered, "it's just making them more late! Seeley isn't going to be happy."

"_Bones?" Booth's strides were long and irritated as he went in search of her. "Bones! If we don't leave now -"_

Unknowingly, he overtook the mothers he couldn't see. They stopped when he did at Angela's office.

_"Any of you seen Bones?" he demanded as he entered. "We're due in court like, hello! now!" Angela, Dr. Goodman and Zach looked at each other and then at him, confusion apparent in their expressions. "What?"_

Milly felt the air shift around them a fraction of a second before she noticed the ancient guide standing beside her. He, too, was staring inside the office. "Oh, no," she whispered, as dread knotted in her stomach. "Ruth -"

_Angela tapped the tablet she held. "This totally freaked her out." _

Ruth's gasp was loud enough to be heard by the living when her own face appeared in a holographic image. Horror-stricken, she turned to Milly. "That's me - Tempe!" She ran in search of her daughter.

"Bones do not lie," the guide said quietly.

Angry and resentful, Milly glared at his lined and weathered visage but contented herself with a loud growl as she spun away to follow Ruth. Booth's words followed her down the hallway.

_"You just found Bones' mother."_

_._

_._

Ruth was standing just at the threshold of Brennan's office as if she were afraid to take that additional step inside. Arms crossed tightly across her chest, she stared into the room at her daughter and rocked back and forth on her heels.

"Honey?" Milly approached slowly, looking at her friend with concern. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm - She's going to be so hurt - she's going to find out everything," Ruth whispered. "There's no way to keep it from her now."

"You don't know that," Milly tried to offer comfort. "Maybe she'll just figure out how you died and -"

"And she won't wonder why I was buried in a hole?" Ruth swiped at a tear that fell. "You don't think that will make Seeley suspicious?"

As if the mention of his name had conjured his presence, Booth appeared.

"_I have to miss court," Brennan said, without looking up at him. _

_Booth crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. "I know."_

_She focused on the decayed strip of leather she held in her hands. "I remember this belt buckle," she murmured softly. "I borrowed it without asking the first day of high school . . ."_

Ruth let out a breath of air filled with tears. "I grounded her for wearing it without my permission - so stupid . . . If I'd known-"

"Sweetie, don't do this to yourself," Milly pleaded as she wrapped an arm around Ruth's shoulders. "Don't."

"Sweetie?" An unwilling smile curved Ruth's lips. "You're starting to sound like Angela." The two of them watched as Zach entered the office holding a brown file.

_"You have the file, Zach?" Brennan asked as he came to a hesitant stop behind Booth. _

_"Jane Doe Number 129-0998," he nodded. _

"Jane Doe." Ruth shook her head, eyes closed. "First I was Ruth, then I was Christine and when I died, I was nobody."

"You aren't nobody, Ruth."

_Zach read from the file. "In September of 1998, a grave-digging crew at the Sunset Memorial Cemetery in Salisbury, Pennsylvania uncovered human remains in an advanced stage of decomposition."_

_Booth looked at him sharply. "Is it from a grave?"_

Ruth looked at Milly. "I told you."

"It was a long time ago, maybe-"

"He's going to find out, Milly," Ruth interrupted sadly. "And so will Tempe."

_" . . . Technically, your mother's been at the Jeffersonian as long as you have."_

"You little jerk," Milly muttered as both Brennan and Ruth reacted to his words.

_"Zach," Booth shook his head._

_"Sorry," the younger man shrugged. "But they both got here in 1998."_

Dr. Goodman's strong quiet presence acted as a balm to the shattered atmosphere.

_"Dr. Brennan," he began, his deep voice soothing the sudden tension. "Ms. Montenegro has volunteered to drive you home."_

_For a moment, Brennan looked as if she were about to argue. Booth caught her eyes and held them. "Temperance," he ordered gently, "Go home."_

_"I would prefer to examine-"_

_"I'm afraid I must insist," Dr. Goodman inserted. "You have had a shock, Dr. Brennan. You need time to adjust to this revelation. Please allow Ms. Montenegro to see you home."_

_"Brennan?" Angela stepped just inside the doorway._

_"Bones." Booth's tone was gentle but implacable._

_Brennan looked once more at the jagged remnant of her mother's belt, then let it fall to the table and pushed back. "I just need a moment to gather my things." She didn't look up as she walked to her desk. "Thank you, Angela. I'll meet you downstairs."_

_Uncertain, Angela looked from Brennan's bowed head to Booth. He nodded and began shepherding everyone out of the office. At the doorway he stopped. "Bones," he said again. When she looked up at him, her eyes were bright with tears. "Call me," he offered. "If you need to talk." _

_She nodded with a jerk and turned away from him. A silent minute passed while he continued to watch her and then Booth, too, walked away._

"Milly, can I . . .?" Ruth looked toward Brennan.

"Yes, go," Milly agreed immediately. "Stay with her. I'll go with Seeley."

"Thank you," Ruth breathed. "You don't think Michael will mind?" she asked nervously.

Milly shook her head. "Surely not. And if he does," she shrugged, "I'll ask Raf to talk to him." She smiled in an attempt to bring an answering one to Ruth's face. "What's the point in having friends in high places if they can't help?"

Brennan stepped out of her office at that moment and the two mothers followed her to the sliding glass doors where Angela waited with Booth.

_"Are you okay, sweetie?" Angela asked, her voice and face reflecting the concern she felt for her best friend. "I'm so sorry - I didn't know . . ."_

_"There is no reason for you to apologize, Angela," Brennan interrupted. "You were simply doing your job. You couldn't possibly have known that those remains belonged to -" _

_Booth stepped forward instinctively as she bit back the rest of her words. "Bones -"_

_She stepped back from his outstretched hand. "I'm fine, Booth," she told him, without meeting his eyes. "Can we go, Angela?"_

_Angela and Booth exchanged worried glances. "Sure, honey," she murmured. "Sure." _

"She'll be fine." Milly squeezed Ruth's hand before she followed her daughter out of the lab. "You'll see." Side by side, wearing identical expressions of care and concern, Milly and Booth watched Angela and Brennan turn the corner and walk away.

.

.

_He waited until lunch before he called and when it went straight to her answering machine, said simply, "Hey, Bones, it's me. Just thought I'd check in with you. Call if you need anything. Bye."_

_Sitting outside the courtroom after lunch, he surreptitiously checked his phone for messages while he waited to be called to the stand. He checked it again on the way back to the office. _

_At 6:00 pm, before he headed home, he called once more. The pen he held in his hand tapped against the desk as he listened to her machine. "Hey, Bones, I just - I'm just checking in . . . making sure you're okay . . . Talk to you later." He hung up with a weary pinch to the bridge of his nose. _

Hours later, Milly watched him once more try unsuccessfully to reach Brennan. When he tossed his cell phone aside without leaving another message, she crept up behind him. "Just go, Seeley," she whispered close to his ear. "She needs you, even if she doesn't know it. Just go, son." Her hand brushed lightly against his hair. "Just go."

Booth stared at the blank screen of his cell phone for a moment longer then stood up, grabbed a dark jacket and headed for the door.

.

.

"Why won't Tempe answer the phone?" Milly demanded without preamble. Ruth looked up, startled at her sudden appearance in Brennan's apartment. "Can't you get her to answer the phone?"

"She turned the ringer off." Ruth pointed to the blinking light on the machine. "Is Seeley -" Their heads turned toward the door at the sound of knuckles rapping firmly against the wood. "It's after midnight," Ruth exclaimed.

"Well, she wouldn't answer the phone!" Brennan opened the door to reveal Booth holding a tray of white cartons.

_"It's after midnight," she said in surprise._

_Booth shrugged. "Well, I was driving by, you know, I saw the lights." He offered the tray of food with a broad smile. "I thought you might like some Wong Foo's." _

_Brennan eyed him skeptically. "You saw my lights from the road?"_

Ruth looked at Milly. "He saw her lights from the road?"

"Pffft." Milly shook her head. "No. Of course not. But she wouldn't answer the phone so I tried that whispering thing you do." She gave Ruth a thumb's up sign. "It worked!" She wandered over to the table where Brennan had been sitting. "Is this what she's been doing all day?" she asked, gesturing toward the box of photos.

"Yes," Ruth sighed. "I don't know what bothers me more, that she's spent hours looking at them or that this one box is all she has." Her anguished gaze met Milly's. "This is all that's left of her childhood? One small box of pictures?"

"She's moved around a lot," Milly tried to find a suitable explanation. "Maybe it's all that survived."

"Are you trying to make me feel better?" They watched as Booth cleared one end of the table and Brennan returned with plates, napkins and drinks.

"Yea," Milly admitted.

Ruth smiled at her friend. "Thanks."

_"You know," Booth cleared his throat self-consciously as he twisted off the cap on his beer. "I tried to call you." He glanced at her briefly. "A couple of times."_

_Brennan picked up chopsticks. "I silenced the ringer," she admitted. "I was being inundated with phone calls and I simply wanted to be alone." She caught his eye. "It wasn't personal."_

_"Yea," he shrugged it off. "I understand." His gaze stayed on her when he sipped his drink. "You okay?"_

_She took a deep breath and looked at him. "I want to know what happened to my mother. And my father. Is he still alive or is he buried somewhere in a grave that just hasn't been discovered yet?"_

_Booth nodded. "After you gave me your parents' missing persons file, I did some poking around."_

Ruth hugged her arms across her chest and closed her eyes. "They're going to find out everything, Milly."

"You know," Milly responded, "maybe that's a good thing. I mean," she hurried to add, "right now she doesn't know anything and she's lived with not knowing for so long that it will probably be a relief. No matter what it is."

"You think she'll be relieved to find out her whole life was a lie?" Ruth's expression mirrored her disbelief. "That her parents weren't who she thought they were, that she's not who she thinks she is?"

"I think after all this time, she deserves to know the truth," Milly insisted quietly. "Even if it hurts."

_" . . . was a high school science teacher. He had no trouble with anyone at work," Booth was saying. "And then your mother," he paused significantly, "that's a different matter."_

Milly's head swiveled toward Ruth.

"I can explain!" she said quickly.

_"She was a bookkeeper," Brennan frowned._

_Booth looked back at the file he held. "She was a witness for the prosecution, twice, on evasion charges . . ."_

"You were living under assumed names and you testified in court?" Milly was obviously shocked.

"The IRS got Al Capone," Ruth answered seriously. "Max had one rule - don't steal from the government."

Mouth still agape, Milly stared at her for a minute longer. "You were crooks . . . but you filed your taxes?"

"We had real jobs, too," Ruth shrugged. "Stealing was . . . a retirement plan. And when we changed our names we stopped doing that, too." She hesitated a moment. "For the most part." She added, as her eyes slid away.

Milly drew breath to speak, thought better of what she almost said, and shook her head. "Never mind. You're giving me a headache."

_"We're gonna find out what happened to your mom," Booth promised Brennan. "Okay?"_

Milly reached for Ruth's hand and squeezed it hard. "It will be okay, Ruth. I promise."

.

.

Ruth paced nervously across the platform while Brennan argued with Zach and Hodgins about the timing of her burial. When Milly raced into the lab ahead of Booth, her heart sank.

"He knows," Milly blurted out.

"Everything?"

"Not yet, but-"

_Booth's long strides carried him up the platform steps. His eyes barely left Brennan. "I need the room, guys."_

_"The whole lab?" Zach asked incredulously. "For what?"_

_Hodgins glared at Booth. "It's a cop way of saying get lost," he explained with ill grace. _

Ruth nibbled on the end of one finger. "What did he find out?"

"He knows about your fake names," Milly answered.

"And the rest?"

"Not yet. But -" she hesitated briefly then barreled through. "He has another agent running a search for a man and woman who disappeared about the same time."

Ruth wrung her hands together nervously. "Can't you do something? Stop him somehow? It's too dangerous -"

"I wouldn't even know how," Milly said sympathetically. "And besides," she bit her lip and glanced away, "Raf warned me not to try," she admitted.

"You asked him?" Ruth looked surprised.

"He . . . sorta guessed that part." Milly wrinkled her nose. "And, apparently Michael told him to remind us that we're only here to fix what we broke and not to interfere in anything else."

"You'd think Michael would be too busy to worry about us," Ruth grumbled, then cast a curious glance at the woman beside her. "So, he knows then? About you and Raphael?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Milly pointedly focused her attention on Booth.

_"I don't know what it means." Brennan was close to tears. "I don't know what any of it means." _

_Booth tried to be gentle. "It means your parents weren't who you thought they were," he explained carefully. "It means that they were living under assumed identities."_

"This is bad." Ruth was immediately distracted from Milly's love life. "This is very bad."

_"I have work to do," Brennan insisted suddenly as she headed to the steps leading down from the platform. "I don't want to discuss this right now."_

_"I'm going to drive down to -" Booth made to follow her._

_"I'm busy, Booth. Call me if you -" Her steps faltered briefly but she refused to look back at him. "Call me if you find out anything more."_

_He waited until she disappeared into her office before, with a shake of his head, he turned to go. _

Milly gestured after him. "I'll stick with Seeley?" she offered. "If you want to stay . . .?"

"Yes." Her worried face staring at Brennan's office, Ruth barely heard her friend's words. "Okay, yea."

Milly hesitated before she followed Booth out. "Everything's going to be fine, Ruth," she promised again.

.

.

Milly sat in the front seat beside Booth, propped her feet on the dash and kept up a running commentary during the drive to North Carolina. She talked about the price of gas when he stopped to fill up. She occasionally looked at the speedometer and told him to slow down. She hated the radio station he chose and complained so long and loudly that when he abruptly reached out and silenced it, she considered it a battle won. She also talked about Brennan.

"I mean, really," she said when he got back in the car after stopping at a highway rest stop. "Why are you waiting? Any idiot can see how attracted you two are to each other. Make your move, son!" She slapped out at his hand on the steering wheel. "She's beautiful. She's smart. All you have to do is read her books to know she's fascinated with you." Hoping that at least some of her words were seeping into his subconscious, she glared at him irritably. "And I can't stick around here forever, you know, waiting on you to get your act straight. I have a life of my own to lead." She laughed at her choice of words. "Sort of anyway."

When he finally pulled over into the gravel parking lot of a small roadside carnival, she was still talking and Booth was rubbing at one temple with the beginning of a headache. "Maybe once this is all over, you could ask her to lunch . . ."

_"Excuse me." Booth approached a teenage boy sitting in a ticket booth. "I'm looking for Russ Brennan. Do you know where he is?"_

_"He's working on the Ferris wheel," the kid answered. "Hey!" he called out when Booth started to walk past him. "Ten bucks to get in." _

_"Ten-?!" Booth took out his badge and flipped it open. "FBI." _

_"Okay, police discount is half. Five bucks," the boy insisted. With a huff, Booth pulled out his wallet._

"You and Jared used to love fairs like this!" Milly chattered as she followed his winding progress through the sawdust and dirt strewn pathways. "Do you remember that? You always wanted to get on the rides that were way too big for you!"

Booth stopped at a snack stand and bought a bag of popcorn before he pproached the Ferris Wheel casually. Silent now, Milly watched the sandy haired young man she'd last seen in the Reflecting Pool dismiss his boss rudely.

_"You want faster work?" he asked irritably, "grab yourself a cup of coffee. Let me alone, man," he ordered. _

_Booth waited until the other man left, spitting tobacco into a cup. "You licensed for this job?" He leaned against the metal barricades surrounding the ride. _

_Russ glanced over briefly. "You're a cop."_

Milly rolled her eyes. "Boys!" she scolded. "Do we have to do this? Play nice! This is important!"

_"I talked to you a couple of months ago on the phone. I'm Booth." _

_"You gonna ask me some more questions about my childhood?" Russ sneered._

_Booth removed a photo from the pocket of his jacket and held it up. Russ's face closed as he stepped forward to take it from Booth's hand. "You found my mother?" _

_Booth nodded. "Your sister did the ID."_

_Russ looked away. "What about Dad?"_

_"No."_

_"What do you want?" Russ demanded suddenly._

Milly looked at him in disbelief. "Tempe just identified your mother's body! What do you think he wants?"

_"Do you remember being anyone else besides Russ Brennan?" Booth asked. _

_Russ looked away again. "No," he said flatly._

"You're lying," Milly hissed. "And you should be ashamed of yourself! Your sister is hurting, Ruth is beside herself -"

_"Cops always think I'm lying," Russ laughed._

"Because you are!" Milly cried. "You could at least ask how Tempe is or . . . or offer to help!"

_"I want you to come back to DC," Booth told him, "and help out in this investigation."_

_Russ shook his head. "I got a job, man."_

Milly shouldered past Booth and poked Russ in the arm. "Your sister needs you, bucko. She just had to identify your mother's bones - don't make me send someone to haunt you! I'll do it!"

_Booth stepped back as Russ pulled the lever that started the ride. "Look at that!" he exclaimed. "It works!" He leveled a hard glance at the other man as he backed up one step. "I'll see you soon."_

_Russ watched Booth walk away before he removed the card from the crevice of the railing where the agent had tucked it. "Hey!" he called out before Booth could disappear into the crowd. "Is she okay? Tempe - is she okay?"_

_Booth stopped. "Would you be?" _

_Russ flinched, then took a deep breath. "I'll be there tomorrow morning." He tapped the card Booth had left against the other hand. "I've got your address."_

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Milly waited until Russ arrived at Booth's office the next morning before she went looking for Ruth. As she'd guessed, Brennan - and hence Ruth - were already at the lab.

"How is she?" Milly asked, nodding toward the activity on the platform.

Ruth shrugged. "As well as can be expected, I guess. Sleeping too little, working too much."

"Ruth . . ." Milly hesitated only seconds. "Your son is here."

"What?" Ruth looked past her toward the doors. "Russ is here?"

"Well, he's with Seeley and they're on their way," Milly explained. "He drove down to North Carolina after we left here yesterday and . . . talked Russ into coming up here to help."

Ruth's expression turned skeptical. "Talked him into it? Seeley threatened him, you mean."

"Pretty much," Milly nodded.

"I guess the important thing is that he's here," Ruth sighed. "That's good. Tempe needs him."

"Ruth," Milly put a hand on the other woman's arm. "She's still really mad at him. She may not -" She broke off abruptly when Ruth's hand flew to her mouth.

"Russ," she breathed out as her eyes filled with tears. She took one step toward the door and the two men walking into the lab. "Look at him - he's all grown up. He looks just like Max."

Milly was watching Brennan instead and flinched at the anger she saw. Russ, too, had seen the expression on his sister's face and slumped with resignation as she hissed at Booth and then passed him by without acknowledgment.

"No." Ruth shook her head helplessly as Brennan stormed away. "No, this isn't right. She can't - he's her brother . . . they should stick together . . ."

"Honey," Milly threw a comforting arm around her shoulders. "She's angry and hurt. This . . . this situation is bringing back old memories -"

"They weren't all bad memories!" Ruth pulled away in anger. "We had fifteen good years - fifteen years when we were happy! Why doesn't she remember those?"

"I don't know - she's hurting," Milly pointed out again. "She needs time to deal with this. You know how she is -"

"But Russ could help her!" Ruth insisted hotly. "She needs him! They need each other! When Seeley finds out about . . ." She took a moment to compose herself. "We tried to protect them. Max and I, we tried to protect them but if the truth of who they really are gets to the wrong people -" Her fear was obvious. "They need each other, Milly. I am not going to let this happen. She has to listen." Ruth stomped toward Brennan's office.

"Where are you going?" Milly called out.

"To talk some sense into her!" Ruth insisted. "They need each other." She marched on.

"Good luck with that," Milly muttered beneath her breath as she hurried to catch up.

.

.

_The sharp crack of Brennan's open hand on her brother's cheek reverberated through the air. _

"No! No no no no no," Ruth covered her mouth in shock. "No, this is wrong."

_"You are not my brother!" Eyes bright with furious, unshed tears, Brennan glared when Booth tried to interrupt. "No! He lied about that! What else are you lying about? What else are you not telling us?" She turned her back and left Booth and Russ staring as her long, angry strides carried her out of the warehouse._

"She doesn't understand," Ruth choked out. "I have to make her understand-"

"Ruth -"

"It's not your fault," Ruth whispered to her son, covering the bright red imprint of Brennan's hand on his cheek with her own. "It's not his fault. It was me, me and Max."

"Honey -"

"I can't get through to her, Milly." Ruth wiped away the tears that fell. "I tried - I talked to her for hours last night . . . I told her she shouldn't blame Russ . . . it's not his fault, I told her she should be mad at me, at her father . . . She won't listen to me . . ."

_"What else do you remember about your parents?" Booth's eyes on Russ were hard. "From when they changed your name?"_

_Russ shrugged. "I was seven. I remember I left my favorite Matchbox car behind when we loaded up the car and moved out of our house in the middle of the night. I remember I had to go to a different school and use a different name and I didn't know what the hell was going on." He glared back at Booth. "I was seven. That's what I remember." As angry as Brennan had been, his steps followed hers to the exit. _

_Booth heaved a loud, frustrated sigh then put two fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly. When the techs somewhat tentatively re-entered the garage, he waved them all in. "Get to work," he yelled. "I want everything you can get out of this car!"_

"No," Ruth whispered again. "This is wrong. This is all wrong." She hugged her arms close and rocked slightly on her heels. "It's all wrong."

Milly pulled her friend into an embrace. "Let's take a break for a little while," she suggested as she rubbed comforting circles into Ruth's back. "We'll find an empty room somewhere, take some time away from all of this for a bit?"

"I don't know how to fix it, Milly." Ruth was heartbroken. "I don't know what to do."

Milly offered her comfort in silence. She didn't know what to do, either.

.

.

"What is it with the Chinese food?" Ruth asked hours later when Booth once again showed up at Brennan's door with a cardboard box of thin, white containers.

"At least he's getting her to eat," Milly shrugged. "I haven't seen her touch another bite today." Booth and Brennan seated themselves comfortably on her sofa and began to eat from cartons picked up at random. "Anything else happen, after Seeley took Russ back to his hotel?"

"No." Ruth sank to the floor, legs folded beneath her. "Angela tried to get her to talk about Russ but," she shook her head, "Tempe just blew her off."

"Well, she can be stubborn," Milly nodded.

"Yea."

The mothers watched as their children ate in comfortable silence. When Booth cracked open his fortune cookie, Milly slipped behind him to peer over his shoulder.

"If certainty were truth, we would never be wrong," she read out loud. Reading silently, Booth smirked before Brennan looked up from the food.

_"If you keep bringing Chinese food in the middle of the night, we're both going to get fat," she said._

_Booth's lips curved as he considered the slip of paper in his hand. "I know what you've been thinking," he murmured without looking up. _

_"I doubt it," she responded pointedly. _

_"You've been thinking that your family is made up of liars and criminals . . ."_

"Well, that should make her feel better." Ruth's voice dripped with sarcasm.

Milly quickly swallowed a laugh. "I'm sorry," she apologized when Ruth shot her a glare, "but it's . . . kinda true . . ."

"No, it isn't -" Ruth's denial was immediate before she had the grace to look abashed. "Well, maybe technically . . ."

_"What were your parents like?" Brennan asked, curious._

_"My parents?" Booth laughed as he crushed the fortune and tossed it to the table. "My dad, he drove Thuds and Phantoms in Vietnam. Those are fighter jets," he explained needlessly. "After that, he was a barber in Philadelphia. My mom," he added, his grin widening as his fingers began to play a jaunty tune on an invisible keyboard, "she wrote jingles for a local advertising agency."_

"Wait - what?" Ruth's face betrayed her surprise as she turned to Milly. "You never told me that!"

Milly almost blushed. "It was . . . Never mind. We're dealing with Tempe right now."

"No, I want to know more about these jingles!" Ruth's unhappiness over her daughter was temporarily forgotten. "Sing one for me!"

_Booth stretched and stood up. "It is a little late for Chinese, isn't it?"_

"No time! Look, Seeley's ready to go!" Milly immediately followed him to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Oh, come on," Ruth teased. "Just one."

"Bye!" She slipped out the door as Booth nodded a goodbye at Brennan.

"Milly!"

.

.

It was, Milly thought to herself as the SUV pulled off on a dirt road, difficult to decide who was more on-edge about this visit, Tempe or Ruth. Concerned, she glanced at the woman beside her; in this case, perhaps the benefit of knowledge wasn't a good thing.

Ruth's hands knotted in her lap. "I don't like this," she said for the umpteenth time. "I don't know what Seeley is thinking, bringing her here. It's too dangerous."

Milly covered the tense fingers. "He'll be with her the whole time. She'll be safe."

"He's a killer." Ruth's eyes were hard . . . and terrified. "Max and I ran away so that men like him couldn't find the kids and now Tempe is being delivered up like an offering on a plate."

"Seeley won't let anything happen to her."

"I think I'm going to be sick." Outside the tinted windows, an older man shut the gate of a large enclosure. Even from this distance, the heavy dark mist that surrounded him was visible to Ruth and Milly.

_"Okay, Bones," Booth began issuing instructions even before he and Brennan got out of the car, "just listen to me. This guy, McVicar, he might be a pig farmer now but he used to be a mechanic, all right? With ties to the strong-arm crew that your parents ran away from."_

"See?" Milly squeezed Ruth's arm. "He knows what he's doing."

"_Not like Russ," Booth shook his head in answer to Brennan's question. "Russ fixes things. This guy, he used to kill people." _

_"Can I help you folks?" McVicar straightened with a smile that did nothing to hide the suspicion in his eyes._

"Shoot him now." Ruth's voice was a hiss of dislike.

_Booth drew his weapon. "Yea, put your hands up. Do it."_

"Shoot him now," Ruth whispered again.

"Ruth -"

_"Check him for a gun," Booth ordered Brennan. _

_McVicar put his hands behind his head as Brennan ran her hands over his arms and down his sides. "What's going on?"_

_Brennan held up a sinister black handgun. "He's got a .45."_

"Check his ankle," Ruth said loudly.

_".45," nodded Booth smugly. "Check his ankle."_

_Brennan displayed a smaller pistol. "He's got a .38."_

"Look under his coat, Tempe." Ruth circled McVicar. "He always stuffed a gun in his back."

_" . . . I know who you are." Booth's steady aim never wavered. _

_McVicar tried to laugh. "Steve Beers, pig farmer."_

_Booth wasn't amused. "Vince McVicar, the pig farmer, huh?_

_The oily smile slid off McVicar's face. "You want to talk to Vince McVicar," he told Booth, "you do it through the federal marshals."_

"Be careful, honey," Ruth warned her daughter as Brennan patted down McVicar's back. "He'll turn on you like a snake."

_". . . __ I'm gonna have to tell them about a pig farmer who carries two concealed weapons," Booth jibed._

_"Three." Brennan appeared with another weapon. ".22 in the small of his back."_

"See?" Ruth smiled triumphantly. She stepped directly in front of him. "You're going down, you son of a -"

"Ruth!" Milly pulled her away quickly. "Maybe we should let Seeley talk to him now?"

_Brennan was standing beside Booth again, the last weapon she'd found still in her hands. _

_"Bones, will you put the gun down?"_

_McVicar dropped his hands. "What do you want?" he demanded._

_It was Brennan who answered. "I'm Ruth Keenan's daughter."_

_Astonishment grew across McVicar's face. "Joy? You're Joy Keenan?"_

Furious, Ruth was immediately back in his face. "Don't you dare say her name! You don't know her! You have no idea who -"

Once again, Milly pulled her back. "Ruth, honey, we have to let -"

_McVicar's crafty gaze slid beyond them to the SUV. "Is Ruth with you? Or your dad?" he asked, his voice sliding into insincere concern. "I haven't seen them in -"_

_"My mother is dead," Brennan interrupted him. "We'd like to ask you some questions."_

_Booth looked around at the activity around the farm, then nodded toward an old barn just feet away. "Let's step inside for a minute, Vince."_

_McVicar shrugged and led the way, his gaze slipping repeatedly back to Brennan during the short trek. _

"There's no point in asking him anything," Ruth fumed as she and Milly followed the group. "He'll just lie. He doesn't know how to tell the truth."

"Seeley's pretty good at seeing through that, don't you think?" Milly tried to distract her but it didn't work. When Brennan stopped, Ruth was right beside her, arms crossed over her chest in a pose that mirrored her daughter.

_"They found your blood in the car," Brennan informed him tonelessly._

"It's too bad they didn't find your body instead."

Milly looked around nervously. "Maybe you shouldn't say things like that out loud."

_"My mother was hit on the head." Brennan's face was expressionless._

_"Yea, I know," McVicar nodded. "I was there." He bent his head and pulled back thinning hair to reveal a long, thin scar high on his forehead. "Thirty-two stitches."_

"Max did that, didn't he?" Ruth smiled maliciously. "It's too bad he didn't finish the job, you bas-"

"Ruth!"

_"Ruthie fought back, alright," McVicar's eyes dropped before he looked right at Brennan. "But not against me."_

_"Then against whom?" Brennan asked immediately. _

_"Your father."_

"That's a lie!" Ruth gasped in outrage.

_"Why did he attack you?" Booth's tone was skeptical._

_McVicar smirked. "Think about it a second, alright?"_

_Taken aback, Brennan couldn't keep the shock from her face or her voice. "You and my . . . my mother?"_

"That's not true! You filthy piece of scum!" Milly only just managed to grab her as she launched herself at McVicar. "How dare you -"

"Ruth, you can't -"

"He's lying!" Eyes wild, she struggled against Milly's hold. "I loved Max! I would never have -"

" . . . _We were nuts about each other, Ruthie and me. Crazy in love."_

"That's not true!" Ruth insisted again. Her eyes filled with angry tears as she pleaded with her daughter. "Tempe, he's lying!"

"Honey, she knows that -"

"No, she doesn't! Look at her!" Brennan eyes began to swim. "She believes him!"

_". . . Our plan, once we set up – most likely in Florida – was to bring you down." McVicar sneered into Brennan's shattered face. "Your father is a hard man, Joy."_

"Max is twice the man you'll ever be," Ruth hissed, her eyes full of hatred as she stared at the hired killer. "You are filth. You are trash. I hope you rot in hell before what's left of you burns to ashes. You aren't fit to -"

Milly stepped between them. "Okay," she tried to smile, "Okay, I think you've made your point, Ruth. Let's go outside -" Just then, McVicar shook his head and, staying clear of Booth and Brennan, left the barn. "Never mind, we'll stay in here." Milly switched plans instantly.

"He's lying," Ruth insisted, her eyes begging Milly to believe her. "None of what he said is true! I would never have left Max! Especially not to run away with him!"

"I know that -"

"But Tempe doesn't," Ruth whispered, watching her daughter start to cry. "Look at her - how can she believe those awful lies?"

"No, no," Milly disagreed immediately, "she doesn't believe him, Ruth, she doesn't. She's just confused right now . . ."

_Brennan tried to speak over her tears. "My brother . . ." She wiped moisture from her cheek. "I have a brother . . . I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan . . ."_

"He's lying, Milly," Ruth whispered again as they watched Booth wrap Brennan close. "He's lying. That's not what . . . I would never - He tried to kill us!" She clutched at Milly's arm. "He found us and he forced us into the car . . . he had that bolt gun he always - He put it to my head, he was going to kill us both if we didn't - he shot me! I woke up and there was blood everywhere - He's lying," she repeated frantically. "He's lying!"

"Of course he's lying," Milly crooned soothingly. "Of course he's lying."

Holding her against his side, Booth led Brennan out of the barn, still speaking to her in a voice as soft and comforting as the one his mother was using.

Ruth suddenly gasped, one hand covering her mouth in an expression of horror. "She told him her name! He knows who she is! They'll find her!"

"Who'll find -" The air behind Ruth began to ripple before the shadowy room filled with a warm, golden light. Relief sagged through Milly when Raphael appeared. _"Help me,"_ she mouthed desperately. He managed only a smile of assent before Ruth pivoted, prepared to make a mad dash for the door only to pull up short at the sight of him.

"Help me!" Unintentionally, she repeated Milly's earlier plea. "We have to hide her - and Russ! We have to put them somewhere safe -"

"Ruth." His deep voice cut through her panic. He put his hands on her shoulders and from where they touched, a calming sense of peace began to chase away her fears. "Be at ease."

"But -" She clung to the last memories she had from life. "She won't be safe now. Russ won't be safe. I have to do something -"

"That is not your task," he gently reminded her. "These events were set into motion by your flight when she was a child. This you cannot change."

Ruth blinked back tears. "But I have to keep them safe. That's all we ever wanted, to keep them safe."

"The future must unfold without your interference." The angel was sympathetic but immovable.

Milly frowned as a thought occurred to her. "But we've already interfered. And aren't we still interfering by trying to fix what we messed up when we interfered before?"

Raphael lifted one golden brow and turned to face her. "Would you like to discuss this topic with Michael? I would be happy to put your request before him."

"No." Milly shook her head immediately. "No, that's okay. I got it - we got it . . . Hear that, Ruth? No interfering - except for what we're supposed to be interfering with." When he shook his head at her deliberately mocking tone, she grinned back, having gotten the reaction she wanted.

Ruth's testy words intruded on their fascinated focus on each other. "Excuse me?" Two pairs of eyes turned her way. "I hate to interrupt your moment," she jibed, "but if we could just get back to Tempe and Russ?"

"I will speak to Micah," Raphael conceded. "Will that allay your fears?"

"No," Ruth sighed. "But I'll take it anyway."

.

.

"Well, this is nice, isn't it?" Milly was almost relentlessly positive as they followed behind Booth when he trailed Brennan and Russ into her apartment. "Russ is going to stay with Tempe for a few days . . . they'll catch up on . . . on stuff." Her smile faltered briefly before she plastered it back on. "It will be great!"

"If I agree, will you stop smiling?" Ruth collapsed on a padded bench just inside the door.

"I may not be able to," Milly joked as she sat down beside her friend. "I think my muscles are frozen that way." She opened her mouth wide and rubbed at her cheeks while Ruth laughed.

"Serves you right. But, thank you." She reached out and grabbed the other woman's hand. "Thanks for being here with me. It helps."

Milly watched Brennan head to the refrigerator while Booth and Russ talked. "I know it was hard but at least Tempe knows what happened to you now. And she has her brother again." She propped her chin in her hands. "Not that any of that helps us get Tempe and Seeley back together."

Ruth watched Booth sneak a peek at the pages of Brennan's manuscript. "I don't know - if we can get Russ on our side, too . . ."

"Yea, right." An unladylike snort escaped before Milly smiled. "Did you see the way Seeley threatened McVicar? I was kind of hoping the guy would hiccup."

"Me, too."

_Brennan returned with bottles of beer. When she passed them around, Booth lifted his in a toast. "To us." _

_"Whoever the hell we are," Russ added. _

"See?" Milly nudged Ruth with her elbow. "That's sweet."

"You're smiling again."

"Yea, but it's a real smile this time so -" A man's voice interrupted her, coming from Brennan's answering machine.

_"Temperance? You have to stop looking . . ."_

With a strangled gasp, Ruth jumped to her feet, staring in shock at the machine on the counter.

_"You have to stop looking for me right now. This is bigger and worse than you know. Please stop now."_

Milly looked from Ruth to Brennan and Russ. "Who was that? Ruth?"

_Booth had the same question. "Who's that?" _

A wide smile crossed Ruth's face, in stark contrast to the pale shock of her daughter's expression. "That was Max," she whispered. "He's still watching them!"

Unaccountably nervous, Milly shook her head. "I don't know what that means," she said slowly.

Jubilant, Ruth grasped her friend's hands as she sat back down. "Don't you see? They're safe now, Tempe and Russ. Max is watching them! He'll take care of them - he won't let McVicar or any of the old -" She bit the words off. "They're safe. You can tell Raphael we don't need Micah now!" Her chin lifted in a show of confidence. "Max will take care of them!"

"He will." Milly was obviously not as certain.

"Yes." Ruth smiled triumphantly. "You wait and see. Max will take care of everything."

Brennan played the message back for the fourth time as she wrote down the exact words spoken by her father. Russ shifted nervously on his feet, his repeated shuffling more than once drawing Booth's suspicious gaze.

Milly watched the entire scene with a sinking feeling. Max will take care of everything?

In her head, she heard her father-in-law's gruff voice reciting his favorite phrase.

_I don't think so._

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_**I miss Hank. We need to see Hank with his new baby granddaughter, don't we?**  
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_**Thanks again for reading!  
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